


Unfinished Business

by TheBusyAuthor



Category: Real Person Fiction, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Romance, Sex, Slow Romance, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBusyAuthor/pseuds/TheBusyAuthor
Summary: A theatre evening in 1995 grows into an unfinished business.And we all know that an unfinished business can torture & haunt you a lifetime if you don't treat it well.
Relationships: Benedict Cumberbatch/Martin Freeman
Comments: 58
Kudos: 13





	1. 21 Years ago

_**\- Friday, May/5 - 1995, 11.19 pm, London, Northumberland Avenue, Playhouse Theatre -** _

It was a mild and cosy night in London.   
Street lights lit up the Northumberland Avenue and the Craven Street, a few soft lights lit up the Playhouse Theatre, and a few lights lit in the flats of some of the surrounding houses. Green trees lined the streets and a mild wind was rustling through the branches and green leaves.  
It was Friday, and in London the night for some young and older adults had just begun.   
The people were strolling through the streets, visiting some bars and pubs, the cinemas; they left restaurants and a lot of people left the Playhouse Theatre.  
The play had been over for half an hour. It had been just a little play, including a few young actors; to be precise, people who wanted to become actors or were actually, unknown actors at the moment.   
Tomorrow, they would be on stage for this play for the last time.

Benedict, an eighteen year old young boy had been in the theatre as well.   
Alone.   
This time.  
He already had been in the play a few weeks ago, with his mother and father, which both were actors, so he had always been very interested in theatre, film and movies as long as he can remember.  
And after he had seen the play, he had decided to go again – alone and secretly.  
He had made the decision after he had seen one of the young, unknown actors. A really talented one, and not to mention, he was pretty cute, with his fluffy dark blonde hair, his slender body and the button nose.   
Benedict had wanted to go to him after the play to tell him that it had been really good, but there had been a few things that had stopped him. 

First one; he was too shy.  
Second one; he didn’t know how to say it, what to say, what to do, how to act – and he was just too shy.   
Third one; he had thought it was a bit strange to go to him and tell him that he had done a great job. Maybe he would have stuttered, or looked at him a bit too obvious – and when this cute guy wasn’t gay or at least bisexual, it would’ve been really awkward.  
Fourth one; he had been here with his parents.

This time, he had been at the theatre all by himself. He had watched the cute, talented actor, and like the last time, he had been really good.   
The voice was pleasant, warm, a bit deep and nasal.  
The hair as fluffy as the last time, the button nose still cute, the eyes warm – although Ben hadn’t seen the colour of them.  
And the age, probably a few years older than himself.

At the end of the play, they had introduced all the young actors.  
And the name of this young actor was: Martin Freeman.

After the play was over, Ben decided to go to the stage door. He would regret it more, if he wouldn’t say something to him, as if he would be ashamed, if he would say something dumb and silly. It was worth a try and his courage higher than the last time.  
He walked onto the street, hadn’t even reached the stage door, when the boy walked out of the theatre.  
Slightly damp hair, light blue jeans, a white T-Shirt, dark shoes, a bag in his hand.

Ben’s heart pounded; he couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t see any other person on this side of the street, and no other actor had left the theatre. He was alone with that cute guy. The best imagined possibility.  
Ben stepped closer; the young adult turned his head around, looked at Ben, smiled slightly. Ben smiled back, he wanted to say something, his mouth was already open.   
The boy stopped, he had noticed, that Ben was about to say something. He waited for the voice to come out, just smiled back, a very charming smile.

But before Ben could say anything at all, a guy from the other side of the street screamed loudly across the street.  
“Heeey Benny!” The guy waved and screamed with joy.  
Ben turned his head around, as well as the button nose guy called Martin.  
It was a guy with dark brown, curly hair, the strands were slicked back loosely. It was a boy with dark blue jeans and a red button up shirt – the first button was open.  
He was running across the street – the entire time cars had passed the streets, a lot of cars; but now, where Ben needed a car immediately, no car was coming down the street.  
His best friend was running across the street.  
Probably in a few minutes his dead best friend Marcello; Ben thought.   
He really liked him, but as always, he had a really bad timing, and he didn’t seem to notice the cute fellow at the stage door.

Marcello just hugged him tightly.  
“Aw, Benny. It’s great to see you, what a coincidence.” Marcello said in an euphoric voice.   
Ben was in shock, he didn’t know what to say or what to do. He just hung in that hug of his best friend, whom he would murder in a few minutes.  
He looked over Marcello’s shoulder, looked to the smaller guy at the stage door.  
And the smaller guy looked back; the smile not charmingly anymore, it was an expression of disappointment; it still was a smile, but a sad and disappointed one.  
Ben wasn’t able to say anything.  
The button nose boy looked to him, smiled again a little bit, raised his hand for a wordless goodbye; he shouldered his bag and turned around slowly, before he walked away – away from Benedict and the hugging friend.

Ben looked after him until he was vanished in the darkness of the streets.

Marcello stepped back, beamed at Ben.  
“Why are you looking like they have cancelled weekends forever?” Marcello joked. “And what are you doing here?”  
Ben looked at him and punched his chest.  
“I was in that theatre play again, where I already have been a few weeks ago with my parents.” Ben said. ”Your timing is shitty. I was talking with a guy!” He was angry in a way.  
“Alone? Well, it’s your decision.” Marcello said and shrugged his shoulders. “And you weren’t talking to someone. You just stood here like a Roman sculpture.”  
“I nearly talked to a guy! You’ve spoiled it, before I could say anything!” Ben said furiously.  
Marcello turned his head around, looking for a guy.  
“Well, he’s not here anymore. Come on Ben, it was just a guy, there are more guys on planet earth than that one.”  
“I could kill you.”  
Marcello laughed, laid his arm around Ben’s shoulder, led him to the other side of the street.   
“No, you wouldn’t do that. Come on, let’s have a drink with Oliver and Phil. I was on my way to the pub, they are waiting. You can find another guy, tomorrow.”

Ben turned his head to him. He pulled his lips into a thin line. He was disappointed and mad, not just because the guy had looked really cute and handsome; in the first place he had just wanted to say, that he was really good, and that he would love to see more of him, and that he was sure, that he would see more of him.

His thoughts about the quality of the cute young actor’s skills should come true a few years later.


	2. A Long Herded Secret

_**\- Sunday, May/8 – 2016, early evening, London, Royal Festival Hall, Bafta Television Awards -** _

Two men were strolling through the streets of London.   
Two men, both dressed with light blue jeans and dark polo-shirts.  
One man tall with a little tummy; brown, longer hair with grey strands – which was slicked back loosely; brown deep eyes, glasses and a stubble.  
The other man was as tall as the other one, but he was slender; his hair was auburn, a bit curly and styled; his eyes were coloured in green and gold, but you never knew which colour they would have, the next time you look him in the eyes.  
They both were on their way to the Red Carpet of the this year’s Bafta Television Awards.

The sun was beaming down from a cloudless London sky. There was no wind, not the slightest breath - it was just hot.  
They were already a bit late, and when they reached the Royal Festival Hall and the Red Carpet, a lot of other fans were already there. In the front row were standing a lot of young girls, behind them more of the young girls, young adults, a few men.  
As always, they were too late, and so they hadn’t the chance to come through to the barrier – as always.   
As always when they were on a Premiere or similar events they would stand behind a lot of other fans.  
And the both men, called Marcello and Benedict, had been at quite a lot of Premieres and Red Carpet Events.

Benedict sighed when they stopped behind a few screaming girls.  
It already was really loud; a lot of screaming fans, which screamed actors and actresses names, freaked out and screamed for an autograph and a picture – and also all the press people screamed as well to get an interview or a picture.  
And on top of that, all the fans were holding mobile phones in their hands, taking pictures and videos.

This time they had missed it, missed it that today were the Bafta Awards.  
They had been in Marcello’s Italian restaurant, which he owned with his wife Emma. And as always, Marcello had talked more with the guests than working in his own restaurant . But this was one of the reasons why the restaurant was such a success. The people loved him, his babbling, his jokes, the great family and cosy home atmosphere. Most of the people were regular guests; some people were coming since he had opened the restaurant 10 years ago; some of them had met there, were married now; some of them were having children now; some of them had grown old there; and some of them didn’t even live anymore.  
And some of the regular guests were celebrities.  
It was a well known restaurant, and most of the time you needed a reservation to get a table – sometimes a reservation one had made months and months ago.  
The restaurant was having a big pizza oven area, a sitting area and a big garden to sit outdoors – and there also was a tavern in the restaurant with a big bar, more tables and more family and Italian atmosphere. It was very cosy, and the food outstanding.

Marcello and Ben had been there, and then an hour ago, they had left, because a guest had mentioned the Baftas.  
Marcello was a movie geek and nerd, and there was nothing he didn’t know about movies, actors, directors and all the other stuff.  
Ben also liked movies very much, he loved it to go to the cinema and the theatre. In his school time he had also played a bit of theatre, but it had just been a hobby. And with parents who were both actors, he knew a bit of the other side of the television.  
His parents hadn’t wanted that he became an actor, and he himself hadn’t wanted that as well.  
He was a teacher at a private high school in London, and he was teaching English, History and PE. He was absolutely happy with his job; he loved to work with the almost young adults, and he was a very likeable teacher - probably the most loved one at his school. Especially the young ladies liked him very much, which wasn’t a big deal for him, since he was openly gay – but that didn’t seem to bother these young ladies, they still loved and fancied him very much.

Marcello stood next to him; he was Ben’s best friend since they had been in the kindergarten. He turned his head to Ben.  
“Well, we’re tall enough to see the people on the Red Carpet.” He grinned.  
“Great, we should be thankful.” Ben said sarcastically. “Who’s coming… or who’s maybe already there?” Ben asked, and the next minutes Marcello enumerated all the people who would be here tonight. Ben’s mouth hung open. “Jesus, how do you know all that?”  
“I’ve googled it a week ago, I just missed that the Baftas are today, I thought it would be next week.”  
“Unbelievable; you should rather work than google all that movie stuff.” Ben smirked. “Martin Freeman will be here as a presenter?” Ben asked again.  
“When you see me sitting in the restaurant, while drinking alcohol and talking, I’m working. It’s called: Entertain your guests.” He grinned. “Yeah, as I said a minute ago, he’s here as a presenter tonight.”  
Ben grinned.  
“I can’t believe what you’re calling work.”

He turned his head away and eyed the people on the Red Carpet.   
Martin Freeman.  
His heart raced and his stomach tingled immediately. He really fancied him; to be honest, in a way he was in love with that man, even though they had never met.   
Well, that was a lie, they had met, but they had never talked with each other.  
They had met 21 years ago, but his mad best friend Marcello had spoiled it.   
All these years he has watched him; he had watched him becoming an actor, a really great and talented one, and with each job he had get better and better.   
He had seen him in the streets, in bars, in restaurants, but Martin had always been eating, in a hurry, or with someone – and Ben hadn’t wanted to bother him in his private time.   
He had seen him at the Sherlock set in London every year, but he had never said anything to him, he had been too far away, as always. And even though his parents played the parents of Robert Downey Jr.’s Sherlock, he had never been on the Sherlock set. He wouldn’t have known what to say to Martin.

And sometimes,… sometimes they had just missed each other. In bookshops, record shops, other shops, the airport, cafes and restaurants – he knew that from all the social media pictures which fans had taken; fans, who had tweeted: I’ve just met MARTIN FUCKING FREEMAN!.   
And then, Ben had thought: Great, I left that shop, that bar, the airport 5 minutes earlier.

To be honest, he wouldn’t have known what to say anyway.   
He had never forgotten him. And especially, when some of his relationships went wrong or he hadn’t been satisfied anymore or he had been single, then he had thought a lot about that day, a lot about Martin, a lot about this cute young boy, with the light blue jeans and the white T-Shirt and his fluffy dark-blonde hair and his button nose.  
What would’ve been, if they had talked to each other?  
Would they be friends?  
Would he be his partner?  
Would they have been a match?  
Was he even gay or bisexual?  
It was unfinished business – and that bothered him.   
He couldn’t let it go, he couldn’t let him go, he couldn’t stop the What-If-Questions.  
And he would love to tell Martin, that they have met several years ago, but for sure, that man wouldn’t remember it or him.  
He couldn’t just stop him in the streets, saying: Hello Martin, we have met 21 years ago, you were pretty good in that play back then, and you were very cute, and I wanted to tell you that, but a mad, screaming Italian guy had been running across the street, spoiling it.  
It was weird, creepy and strange.

Marcello didn’t know what was going on in his best friend’s head; for him it had just been a guy, he hadn’t even seen him 21 years ago – and Ben had never told anyone, that he had ‘met’ Martin, when he had been a young unknown actor of the age of 23.

With a bit of luck, Martin wasn’t already here, maybe he would come a bit later. Until now, he couldn’t see him on the Red Carpet, which was probably a good sign.  
Marcello next to him just took photos with his smartphone every two seconds.  
Ben looked at his watch, which was dangling around his wrist.   
With mishap, Martin already was in the Royal Festival Hall – it was already quite late.

He watched the Red Carpet while Marcello was taking pictures or videos; Ben didn’t know, but Marcello was holding his smartphone in front of his face since they arrived.

The luck was with him today.  
Martin Freeman got out of a car, with his almost grey hair, which was slicked back; he was wearing sunglasses, a black suit with an orange knitted tie and a white button up shirt.  
Fucking hell, that man looks gorgeous; Ben thought with a racing heart and a tingling stomach.  
He had just eyes for Martin; he watched him the whole time, the way he strolled across the Red Carpet, greeted colleagues, friends and fans. And the whole time he smiled charmingly as always.  
He had locked eyes with Martins body, and until he would disappear into the Royal Festival Hall, he wouldn’t take his eyes off of him.  
His heart was racing the whole time, and a lot of What-If-Questions were in his head. He really tried to turn it off, but he wasn’t successful – as always.  
That unfinished business wasn’t good.  
Maybe this was one reason why he couldn’t find the perfect one; he was always thinking about Martin and if Martin would have been the perfect one, if Marcello hadn’t spoiled it.  
Martin disappeared after half an hour, had walked to the photographers, so he couldn’t see him anymore.   
He had been so close, and on the other hand, he had been so far away, when Martin had been taking pictures with the fans at the barrier.

Marcello pinched Ben into the stomach to get his attention.  
Ben shoved Marcello’s hand off of his stomach. He blinked a few times and turned his head to Marcello.  
“This hurts you git.”  
“You’ve been deep down in a Martin Freeman dream.” Marcello grinned. “I was talking to you, but you just watched the little Hobbit. I didn’t know that you fancy Martin Freeman. Do you have a crush on him?” He smirked with a boyish grin.  
Ben looked at him, he blushed massively, and looked like a well grown tomato.   
“Oh, Jesus,… you really have!” Marcello grinned.  
“Shut up now! We can talk about it when we’re back at the restaurant.”  
“What do you want to tell me about that? Are you wanking while thinking of him?” Marcello teased him.  
“Shut the fuck up! And don’t scream like that!”  
“You’re doing it!” Marcello waggled with his eyebrows.  
Ben just looked at him – was staring at him with serious greyish eyes.  
And Marcello just grinned and turned around to the Red Carpet again.

When all the celebrities had been in the Royal Festival Hall, Ben and Marcello have strolled back to the restaurant, which was placed next to the River Thames, in the very heart of London.  
Marcello had teased Ben the whole way back with his babbling about Martin.

In front of the restaurant they stopped.

Ben leaned against the wall of the restaurant, Marcello was standing in front of him.  
“Since when are you that serious, Ben. I was just joking, you know that, right?” Marcello smiled.  
“Yeah, I know that. I’m not mad and serious because of your stupid babbling.”  
“You know, I love talking, so just talk with me.”  
Ben sighed and nodded.  
“Do you remember when we have been 18?” Ben asked.  
“Of course, I haven’t had a tummy, and not one grey strand, and all the woman liked and loved my Italian charm.” Marcello grinned.  
Ben needed to grin.  
“Yeah, but I’m not talking about you getting old and grey. Do you remember the day we met at the Playhouse Theatre, I have been in a play all by myself, in a play I have been to twice.”  
“Jesus, Ben,… that was 21 years ago.” Marcello said, and tried to remember.

Ben watched him, helped him.  
“As I said, I’ve been alone in that play, and I’ve seen it with my parents beforehand. You wanted to go to a pub, where Phil and Oliver had been waiting for you. You saw me, and screamed across the street, you ran across the street and hugged me. And I was mad with you the whole evening, because you’ve spoiled my nearly chat with a guy.”  
Marcello raised a hand. He remembered.  
“Oh yeah, you’ve been really mad with me, just because of some guy. Christ, why is that day still in your head in all these details? It was just a guy, and he didn’t even say a word, he could’ve waited for you, but he walked away.” Marcello shrugged his shoulders.   
Ben rolled his eyes.  
“I would walk away too, when some mad Italian guy would run across a street while screaming a name like a maniac.”  
“Funny.” Marcello grinned. “Are you still mad with me, because of that mysterious guy?”

Ben looked at him and to his feet. He raised his head again, took a deep breath and locked eyes with his best friend.  
“In a way I am. And in a way I am mad with myself, because I haven’t said a word as well, before or after you hugged me, or while you were hugging me. I just hung in your hug and was shocked.” Ben said. “It wasn’t just a guy. It actually was Martin Freeman.”  
Marcello needed to laugh.  
“Come on, you’re kidding, right? Maybe he just looked like him.”   
“No, I’m not kidding. It was Martin Freeman, they had introduced the actors after the play. I’ve wanted to go to the stage door to tell him, that he had been really good, but you spoiled it.”  
Marcello’s mouth hung open.  
“Fuck, honestly? Jesus, and that bothers you since 21 years? Unfinished business, right?” Marcello stated more than he asked.  
“That’s it. I’m thinking about it quite often. And in a way, I’m afraid that I’ve missed something, even though we have never talked. Do you know what I mean?”  
“Yeah, I know. Unfinished business. You can’t let it go, because you didn’t know what would be, if I hadn’t spoiled it, if you would have talked to him. You know, you could’ve just visited your parents on the Sherlock set. But I know you quite well, too shy and too polite, you wouldn’t have known what to say, and in his private life on the streets or wherever, you would never bother him.”  
Ben nodded slowly and sighed.  
“You’re right, that’s why I have never talked to him, and why I haven’t visited my parents on the set.”

Marcello looked at him, he didn’t know what to say.  
Silence. Silence between the two of them.  
One could just hear the chatty voices of strolling people, the laughing, the sounds of the streets, of the cars, the Thames – the sounds of London.  
Marcello squeezed Ben’s shoulder.

“Well, Ben. I know… an unfinished business like that is really shitty,… but there are just two options; you need to decide what to do about that. It was 21 years ago, that’s a fucking long time; so either you forget it and go on with your life and without the What-If-Questions or you take a chance and say at least hello to him, when you see him the next time. You should really do the second one; at some day you should talk to him. Even if he can’t remember; I’m sure he had heard weirder things from fans than that story. And he seems to be a really kind and nice guy with his fans. You really should be a bit rude and just talk to him. I bet he would say something if he wouldn’t be in the mood for talking, or if the situation wouldn’t be that good. He’s always very lovely to his fans. And you could find the answers to all your What-If-Questions.”

Ben scratched his head and ran his hand through his hair. He sighed again, it wasn’t that easy, even though it sounded like it would be.  
Marcello smiled.

“Come on, mate. Let’s go inside. Food and drinks are free for you tonight, just eat and drink as much as you want, maybe that will cheer you up a bit.”

Ben nodded, pushed off of the wall of the restaurant and went in with Marcello.  
He really needed to make a step forward.  
He needed to get answers to his questions.  
If not, he would regret it a lifetime, his lifetime, when he would be sitting grey and old in his rocking arm chair and review his whole life.

More courage, less nervousness – when they would see each other the next time.


	3. More Nervousness, less Courage – or was it the other way round?

_**\- Thursday, May/12 – 2016, London, Southwark, Founders Arms -** _

A few days have passed since Benedict had told Marcello, who the young guy had been 21 years ago.  
Marcello seemed to be totally relaxed about it. He had said several times, that Ben should just talk with him, and that it wasn’t a problem to see him.   
In a way, Marcello was right; he had parents, which both were actors, and sometimes they were invited to some celebrity events, and he would have the possibility to go with them – and he was living in London, and Martin often was in London, and so the possibility to meet him here was in a way huge and easy.

But it wasn’t easy to say hello.  
Maybe it was easy for Marcello, but for Ben, it was almost an impossible thing to do.  
When it came to that, he was just too shy, too nervous and a coward – and that made him angry.  
He was angry with himself, because he was such a coward. And often he was just thinking too much about a few things, and that made situations like these not easier – in fact, they became more difficult after thinking too much about it.

At the moment, he was standing in the London evening sun.  
In Southwark, next to the pub and restaurant ‘Founders Arms’.   
He leaned with his forearms on the barrier to the Thames, was dressed in a grey T-Shirt, black trackies and some dark running shoes.  
After his day at school, he had needed some fresh air, and after he had been at home to change and eat a small snack, he had left for some physical activity. He had been running through the streets of London, across the Southwark Bridge to the ‘Founders Arms’.   
It was one of his usual running routes, when he wasn’t in the mood for the Regents Park.   
The pub and restaurant ‘Founders Arms’ was the place to make a little break after more than five kilometers of running.   
And every time he was leaning with his arms on the barrier next to the pub and restaurant watching all the boats and ships on the water and the people in the pub and restaurant, which were sitting outdoors, for a few minutes.

Today it was just the same.  
He looked into the glittering water of the Thames; sweat was running down his forehead to his cheeks, was dripping onto his T-Shirt. A light and mild wind was tousling through his auburn hair. Headphones hung around his neck.   
He was out of breath, enjoyed the cool air and the short rest.  
He ran his hand through his sweaty hair, through the soft strands and turned his head to the outdoor sitting-area of the ‘Founders Arms’. His eyes eyed all the people, who were sitting there. Elderly couples, younger couples, friends – people, which were talking, eating, laughing and drinking.   
And one person was just sitting there, without food, without a drink, without another person.  
A man; a man with grey hair, blue eyes and a button nose; a man with a dark blue polo-shirt.   
To be precise, it was Martin Freeman.   
Marin Freeman alone in a pub and restaurant, and he wasn’t eating or drinking – he was just sitting there watching the Thames.

Ben’s heart raced against his rib cage, as if it wanted to break free.   
He eyed him, every inch he could see of him – the hair, the eyes, the nose, the mouth, his neck, his upper body, his arms and fingers.  
His eyes were big, his mouth hung open, he was staring like a psychopath.  
That was probably the best chance he could get.  
He blinked a few times.  
What has he told himself – more courage, less nervousness? – That was the thing his mind told him.  
But the rest of his body, especially the function to just walk over, told him something else.  
More nervousness, less courage.  
It irritated his mind.   
More courage, more nervousness – no, that was wrong.  
Less courage, less nervousness – no, wrong again.  
More nervousness, less courage – right, yes, that was right. That was the thing his brain told him, especially a few parts: his speaking area, the moving area, oh and the part, which told you how to breathe.

All these parts screamed that they had never heard of something like: more courage, less nervousness.   
They all screamed: get nervous; forget how to breathe, how to speak, how to walk; please sweat a bit more, please have shaking hands, and would you be so kind to get weak knees; oh and a racing, freaking out heart would be great as well.  
And Ben fulfilled all theses wishes immediately.

He closed his eyes for a few moments.  
It wasn’t the fact that Martin was a well known actor that made him nervous – it was the fact, that behind closed eyes, he saw this cute, young man, with his button nose, his fluffy hair, these light blue jeans, the white T-Shirt, who smiled charmingly, waited for him to speak, who smiled sadly and disappointing, who smiled like it would be a shame, that another person was hugging him. Behind closed eyes he saw this young and cute man, who raised his hand for a wordless goodbye with exactly that smile, that said: It’s a shame, I would have loved to talk with you.

Benedict opened his eyes again, blinked a few times and looked to Martin again.  
He bowed his head. He would miss his chance again, wouldn’t he act now.

And then it happened.

Martin turned his head around and caught his gaze.  
He looked over to Ben – directly.  
They had locked their eyes with each other.  
Ben’s heart pounded even more, and Martin just bowed his head and smiled. He smiled a warm and friendly smile – it was infectious, even Ben, who was more in a stupor than anywhere else, was smiling softly and warmly.   
And their smiles became wider, broader, more warmly, more softly.   
Their smiles weren’t the only things which beamed in their faces, the eyes beamed as well. 

Ben bit his lower lip when Martin just winked.  
He needed to say hello, he needed to do that.   
It couldn’t be that difficult. He was just sitting away a few steps, and he had smiled and winked at him. When this wasn’t an invitation to say hello, what else would it be.

He took a few deep breaths, while Martin was eyeing him, and with that Ben needed a few extra deep breaths.   
This man was cheeky; charming and cheeky – after his rather obvious body scan, he just licked his lips.  
One more reason to take another deep breath – just as precaution.

Ben made a step forward.   
Martin just smiled charmingly, he sat up a bit more, as if he would get ready for a hello.  
But after two steps, a woman came out of the pub and restaurant, walked to the table and sat down.  
Amanda.  
Ben stopped – this wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Not again.  
He really wanted to walk to them, but Amanda reminded him, that Martin was here as a private person, that this was a private moment. He was probably here to have a nice dinner and a few drinks with his good friend and colleague Amanda after a day of shooting or after having a day off.  
He didn’t want to spoil his free time.

Martin blinked a few times, looked briefly to Amanda, then to Ben again. He bit his lip, smiled a smile, that said ‘I am sorry.’ – as he noticed, that Ben wouldn’t come over to interrupt.   
He raised his hand a bit.

A goodbye, again.

Just like Ben 21 years ago, Martin was a bit shocked, confused, and he really didn’t know what to do or what to say.


	4. The Auburn Haired Cheekbone Boy

_**\- Thursday, May/12 – 2016, London, Southwark, Founders Arms -** _

Amanda smiled at Martin for a brief moment, before turning her head around to see what Martin was looking for.  
She saw a few people, which were strolling around – families with kids, old couples, people with dogs, young adults, teenagers, some kids with their grandparents.  
She turned her head to Martin again, looked at him with questioning eyes and a wrinkled forehead. She bowed her head.   
Martin had greeted someone, that had been obvious; he had smiled and he had raised his hand for a goodbye, and he had looked sorry, very sorry in a way. But she hadn’t seen a person, who seemed to know Martin. Everyone who was strolling around near the pub was busy with something else, nobody had looked to them.

“Who was it? You’ve greeted someone… ” Amanda asked curiously.  
“I don’t know.” Martin said, he looked at her.   
The guy was gone, vanished in the crowd, with his sportswear, headphones and sweaty red face.   
“What do you mean, you don’t know? I mean, you’ve greeted him or her.”  
“Yeah, um, it was a guy. I didn’t know him,… I suppose. Um, he just looked at me, and smiled,… so I smiled back.”  
“You suppose, you didn’t know him? What’s the meaning of that? To be honest, you look a bit confused right now.” She said and eyed him, and then she raised her eyebrow with a cheeky smile. “Was it a hot one?”   
Martin needed to grin, he locked eyes with her and nodded.  
“Yeah, a hot one.” He smirked. “Jogger, with headphones, dark shorts, grey T-Shirt; a tall one, slender; probably brown, or well, reddish brown hair, a bit curly.”  
“Oh, that’s someone for you. I like the smaller ones.” She grinned. “Would you be so kind to answer my other question?” She said with a massively curious voice.

Martin bit his lip, he took a deep breath – he would make a fool of himself.   
But before he could say anything, some of the waiters brought their ordered snack, Amandas white wine and his beer.  
They both nodded and thanked the guy.  
Amanda looked at Martin again, they clinked glasses, took a sip and then Amanda raised her eyebrows.  
“I’m curious, Martin. Come on, just say it. We are friends for 16 years now, there can’t be anything you could tell me, that would surprise me massively. We’ve talked about so many things, you don’t need to be ashamed of anything.”

Martin twirled the glass in his hand and took a deep breath again.  
“Well, I just have the feeling, that I maybe know that man.” He said insecure. “It’s just a feeling. Um, it’s a bit complicated. To be honest, it’s not really complicated.”  
“Sweetheart, I’m too curious for riddles right now.”  
“Okay, okay. Listen, there’s something that happened a long time ago, and I never said anything about it to anyone. It had been just a little moment and I thought, I would make a fool of myself, because I gave… or give it too much attention and too many thoughts.”  
Amanda nodded, sipped at her wine and leaned back comfortably.

Martin looked at her and licked his lips. He sighed.

“It happened, um, Jesus, it happened 21 years ago. I was playing theatre at this time, and we’ve done a play in London for a few weeks. After the second last show, I wanted to go home right after the play, because I was really tired. So I was the first one, who left the theatre. Some guy walked towards the stage door, towards me. And well, he smiled, and looked really cute and handsome. I think, he was a bit younger than me. He was about to say something to me, so I stopped. But before he could say anything, another guy screamed across the street, waved at this guy, ran across the street and hugged him. The cute one,… was called Benny, um, we just looked at each other and yeah, he didn’t say a word, so I raised my hand and turned around to go home. And the jogger, I don’t know,… in a way, he reminded me of that young boy.” 

Amanda looked at him in surprise.  
“Okay, you’re able to surprise me with your stories even after 16 years of friendship. You really remember that night that good? It was 21 years ago, Martin, people change, are you sure you would recognize him?”  
Martin drew little circles with his forefinger on the table.  
“I don’t want to sound rude, but he had a really remarkable face –sharp cheekbones. I mean, he really looked handsome with it, it was just something you would recognise again. That man… looked similar in a way. I don’t know, Amanda. I saw him… and then I thought immediately of that boy with his auburn hair and those cheekbones.”  
Amanda bowed her head.  
“It seems to be a story, which is really important to you. There’s a bit more, isn’t it?”

Martin sighed and nodded.  
“The truth?”  
“Of course, Martin.” Amanda smiled.  
“I could tell you every detail of that night; I could tell you how the streets had looked, that it was a mild and cosy night; I could tell you exactly what the boy had worn, it’s like it happened yesterday. I’ve never forgotten him. I think, I would have invited him for a drink, even though I was really tired. I really can’t forget him, and I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened, when we would have talked to each other. Every time, when I was single, like now, or when I wasn’t satisfied in a relationship, I thought about him and if he maybe was the perfect one; if I maybe missed the perfect one, my perfect match. Sometimes it felt like being in love with an unknown guy called Benny and then it felt like cheating, when I was in a relationship. I thought about searching him,… but how, with just the information that someone had called him Benny. I mean that could be his name… or just a pet name. It’s unfinished business, it feels like I would miss something in my life for 21 years now. I mean, maybe he would have been a fucking prick… but what when he actually was and is as handsome as he looked, what when he was the perfect one for me? Then I would have missed him.” Martin told her honestly. “I’m a doofus.” He added.

Amanda had listened, and now she looked at him with big eyes and an open mouth. She was speechless.  
Silence.  
And while Martin turned his head to the Thames, Amanda just watched him in surprise. They had talked about a lot of things, about a lot of general and intimate things. She had expected a lot of things, but the story Martin had told her was a big surprise. She hadn’t expected that there was a guy Martin fancied, even though he didn’t know him. 

“Martin?” She said after nearly ten minutes.  
Martin turned his head around.  
“Just forget about it, Amanda.”  
“No. No! You’re not a doofus. I know what you mean with unfinished business, it’s a bad feeling, because it wasn’t your decision and neither his decision not to talk with each other. There was someone who spoiled it. And now you’re asking yourself what would have been, if you two could have talked with each other, if you could have done what you two have wanted to do. I’m really sorry, Martin. I really hope, that you will find out some day.” She said gently.  
“That’s exactly the thing that bothers me. That it was spoiled, but, well, um,… we both haven’t done anything; he just hung in that hug… and I left.”  
“Yes, that’s right, too. I think a screaming guy was a bit of a surprise.” She smiled.   
“Absolutely.” Martin nodded.  
“Do you think, that this jogger was the auburn haired cheekbone Benny?”  
“I really don’t know, Amanda. He just came to my mind when I saw him smiling at me. I mean, there is probably more than just one guy with remarkable cheekbones.”  
“Yeah, probably there are more men with remarkable cheekbones.” She said softly. “What do you think is his name? Maybe it’s Benny… or Ben, Benjamin, Benedict.”  
“It also could be just his second name or his third name – some friends in school called me Chris or Christopher, because a lot of others were called Martin or John, too, at this time .” Martin said. “I don’t care about his name,… I would rather love to know where to find him.”

Martin took one of the snacks and bit into it.  
Amanda pondered, sipped at her wine and twirled the glass.  
“Timothy… ” She said.  
“Hmm?” Martin hummed, while chewing the snack.  
“Timothy,… Sherlock. He has a bit of these remarkable cheekbones. So there’s a guy who has remarkable cheekbones as well. Timothy and Wanda are having a son called Benedict.”  
Martin looked at her with an expression, that asked if she really was serious about that.  
“Come on Amanda, that’s bullshit.” He shoved the snack plate to her. “You should rather eat something, than babbling such nonsense.”

Amanda looked at him with a grin. She took some of the snacks.  
“Conversation is over?”  
“Yeah, let’s talk about something else… maybe about the jogger. If this jogger is him, then he is now hot as fuck. If it was him, he turned from a cute and handsome boy to a fucking hot and handsome man.”  
Amanda laughed with her snack in her hand.  
“That’s not changing the subject.”  
“I just wanted to say, that this jogger was really hot and sexy.” Martin grinned, with slightly flushed cheeks.  
“I got it Martin.” Amanda grinned.  
“No, you didn’t. You haven’t seen him. He was really hot, I mean really really hot… like in hot as fuck and in it’s not even possible to be that hot.” Martin smirked.  
Amanda laughed and shook her head in amusement.  
“You should also rather eat the snacks than babbling like a horny teenager.”   
She shoved the plate to Martin.

Martin grinned, cheeks flushed like tomatoes right now. He picked another snack.  
They both bit into their snacks, chewed with a grin, until they chuckled and almost choked on their food.


	5. I Hadn't Watched My Way

_**\- Wednesday, May/25 – 2016, late afternoon, Streets of London -** _

Benedict was strolling through the streets of London.  
He had been at work, and after his last English class, he had packed his things and had left the school. Just two days were left before summer half term, which meant one week off. 

He opened the door to one of the many Starbucks cafes.  
The queue was as long as always. He shouldered his bag again, rearranged his sunglasses and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He looked around, looked through the show-case to the cakes and bagels and all that stuff, and read the menu card probably a hundred times, before he was able to order his coffee and one of the cupcakes.  
And after ordering his coffee and cupcake, he almost waited as long as for the moment to order his coffee.   
In the meantime, he had read the menu card a hundred times more while eating the cupcake.

With the coffee in his hand, he walked through the streets. He was on his way home.  
He sipped at his coffee a few times and was totally lost in his thoughts - thoughts about his day at school, about the fact that he would have a week off in two days; thoughts about Martin, because his whole own English class had just talked about the new Setlock pictures with him. For them it had been the last English class before the weekend and the week off, and because they knew, that their beloved Englisch teacher loved Sherlock as much as they loved it, they hadn’t talked about anything else.   
And so his thoughts were with Martin again.

As he was walking along the shops and cafes and restaurants, he was looking through the shop windows.   
He was so distracted that he didn’t watch his way.  
And it didn’t take a long time until he was bumping into something.

It wasn’t something, it was someone.  
He had just bumped into a man, who had been strolling towards him.  
They both gasped.   
And Ben’s Starbuck cup was pressed against his chest for a brief moment.  
He blinked a few times.  
Jesus, that had almost scared the shit out of him.  
He hadn’t expected to bump into someone, even though, he was busy with looking trough the shop windows, and hadn’t watched his way.  
What was he thinking? It was more than logical that one ran into something or someone, when one didn’t watch the way.  
He blinked a few times and looked down to the other one.

And the man who was standing there, began to talk.  
“Jesus, I’m so sorry.” He said in a warm and apologetically voice.  
Benedict blinked again a few times; his mouth hung open, he had wanted to say something, but when he had heard the voice, his own was gone immediately.  
He couldn’t believe his ears – and for god’s sake, he couldn’t believe his eyes.  
Martin Freeman.  
Martin Freeman, dressed up like Dr. John Hamish Watson.   
His almost grey hair was loosely slicked to the right side; he wore a light blue button up shirt, dark blue jeans, and light brown shoes – around his neck were hanging his headphones.

He looked up to Ben, and blinked as well. He bowed his head. That man looked really familiar, but he was too shocked about their crash, that his brain didn’t work as great and fast as always. To be honest, it wasn’t just the crash, that made his head slowly and shitty, it was much more that good looking guy in front of him.   
There wasn’t much going on in his head, just a word danced around.  
Hot.  
Oh, and there just popped up a few other words in his brain.  
Really hot. Totally hot. Absolutely hot. Too hot, it’s not even possible. Holy shit he’s hot. Fucking hot. Hot as hell.

He blinked again a few times, his brain was knocked out, but he seemed to be able to speak again.  
The guy hadn’t said anything, so he opened his mouth again.  
“Sorry, really. I hadn’t watched my way. I have been busy with my phone and my headphones. Are you and your coffee alright?” Martin asked.  
Benedict closed and opened his mouth a few times.  
“Um, yes. Yes, everything is okay. The… the coffee is still alive, and so am I.” Ben said nervously. And Martin needed to grin because of Ben’s comment. “Um, I hadn’t watched my way either, I was busy with the shop windows, so I’m guilty, too.” Ben murmured and shouldered his bag again.

Martin smiled softly. He scratched his head.   
“Okay. I’m feeling better now.” He smiled charmingly, but shyly as well. He was really flashed by this hot guy, with his sunglasses and the wide infectious smile he was showing him right now. “Um. Sorry again. Well, I’m in a hurry. I really need to go back to work. Have a great one.” Martin smiled.   
Ben bit his lip, smiled again friendly and wide.  
“Yeah. I’m sorry, too. Have a better one.”  
They smiled at each other.

And their ways parted again.  
They walked along the street, in different directions.   
But after a few steps, they both turned their head around again – at the same moment.  
They looked at each other, and while Martin licked his lip unconsciously and smiled gently, Ben bit his lip and gave Martin an infectious soft smile back.  
And after what has just seemed like seconds, they turned their heads around again.

Martin walked along the street; he really needed to go back to the set. But his stomach was very busy to cope with a specific feeling - there was a feeling, that he should turn around again; that he should turn around to that hot and cute guy, who had made his stomach tingle, and his heart race like mad; who had made him shy.   
There was something about this man.   
In his mind flickered a word.  
Jogger.  
Martin stopped in the middle of the street.  
That guy had looked a bit like the jogger; today they had been much closer to each other, but he was sure, he had looked like the jogger from the Thames.   
No, he hadn’t looked like him.  
He was unsure and sure at the same moment. He ruffled through his hair after he had thought yes and no repeatedly.   
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.  
He nodded to himself. He was convinced that this had been the jogger from the Thames. But when this had been the jogger from the Thames, then this means that this man had probably been the stage door Benny. 

Martin’s eyes went big, his heart raced even more. He turned around abruptly, eyed the street with fast eyes.  
But the guy had disappeared.   
Martin swore with a low voice.  
“Fuck! I’m such a doofus!”  
He almost slapped himself. He couldn’t believe it. 

Why for fuck’s sake had he said, that he needed to go back to work?  
Of course he needed to, but it wouldn’t have mattered, if he would have been a few minutes late. They couldn’t start without him, and most of the times, they needed to wait anyway, because a camera wasn’t working or a light or the sound, because someone was missing or just because something else wasn’t like it should be.   
He should have spent some time with this man.  
Now it was too late.

He had missed the chance. 

And the rest of the day he had been grumpy as hell.


	6. A Triggered Mind

_**\- Wednesday, Mai/25 – 2016, late evening, London, Notting Hill, Martin’s place -** _

The first thing Martin did when he came home was slipping out of his shoes, walking into the living room and kitchen area and got himself a Whiskey.   
It had been a long day, and on top of that, during a break, when he had been for a walk and in a record shop, he had probably met the jogger from the Thames, maybe the stage door boy, but on any account, he had met a fucking hot guy. And all he had been able to say was, that he needed to go.

What the hell had he thought in that situation?  
What the hell was wrong with him?  
Was he bloody stupid?

He emptied the glass in one large sip, and put it down.

The others had noticed that he had come back to the set really grumpy, a few had asked, but he hadn’t been willing to answer it, and so they hadn’t asked again, and he had just done his job. 

He walked upstairs to his bathroom, undressed and went into the shower.  
He switched on the water, and immediately cold water ran down his body.   
He shivered.   
But with every second, the water got hotter and hotter.  
He sighed, ran his hand through his hair and across his face.  
He took the shampoo and washed his hair.   
Again, he stepped under the raining down water, washed all the shampoo out of his hair.

He opened his eyes for a brief moment and took his shower gel.

And while he closed his eyes again, while he ran his hand over his heated naked skin, his thoughts drifted to the hot stranger from the street, to the jogger from the Thames and to the young and handsome boy from the stage door.  
He bit his lips, he could feel that he got more and more aroused with every second he thought about these guys, or just that one guy.

Martin licked his lips; all the blood flowed downwards and gave him a massive erection, which he couldn’t ignore any longer.  
His hand stroked across his erected penis, and he moaned in pleasure.  
For a lot of years he hadn’t had sex with a man, to be honest since two decades. If he had had a wank, he had thought about men; men who were giving him a handjob or blowjob, men who sometimes fucked him. But as much as he was thinking about men during a wank, he was thinking about women.

This time it was a man, or three men? A young guy, a jogger, a stranger - which maybe were just one person; the person, he desperately wanted to meet since a lot of years. 

He laid his right hand against the glass front of the shower, pressed the hand against it, the fingers scratched across the glass.  
His left hand stroked his erection eagerly; he moaned and sighed and purred. His hips rocked sometimes eagerly and hungrily forwards for more friction and stimulation.   
His fantasy couldn’t decide which of these men was giving him a handjob in the shower. 

For a few seconds it was the young man with his shy appearance ; for a few seonds it was the jogger, with his talented hands and his tousled, sweaty hair; for a few seconds it was the stranger from the street, with that beaming smile.

He pressed his right hand more against the glass front, while his left hand teased his erection; he stroked himself slowly and gently, the thumb ran across his tip, and when he loosened his hand around his throbbing and twitching cock, he massaged his balls.

“Oh fuck.” He moaned loudly.

His eyes were closed, his head tilted back and his mouth hung open. A lot of moans and purrs left his throat in pure pleasure.   
He shivered and goose bumps spread across his body, when he saw the stranger in front of him, with his sunglasses and this beaming smile.   
He felt warm and comfortable immediately, as if this guy would hug him tightly.  
He bit his lips, and licked his lips, and he scratched across the glass front, pressed his hand against it and punched it with his flat hand.

But the hand sank down, caressed across his butt; he caressed across his hip, to his tummy and his chest, and ran his thumb across his hard nipples.   
He moaned again - loudly and in relish.  
His hand ran down again, massaged his butt, and he just couldn’t hold it back - a finger rubbed across his puckering hole and slid into it.  
He needed to moan even louder.

And immediately his fantasy freaked out.

In his fantasy, the young man from the stage door, kissed, licked, sucked and bit his neck and his ear. And it felt amazing, he even tilted his head to the right side.   
And while this young man was busy with his neck and ear, the jogger fingered him, which felt more than just amazing. And on top of his nice finger in his arse, the jogger snuggled his face into his hair at the back of his head.  
And then the third one, the fucking hot stranger, with this beaming smile, was giving him a handjob, rubbed his tip, and massaged his balls.   
He was surrounded by the three of them.  
And he felt really cozy and in good hands. 

He swallowed and bit his lip after a really loud moan. He licked his lip; he needed much more friction; his knees were already weak, and his legs were shaking.   
He needed it rougher after such a long and exhausting day, and his grumpy mood.   
And so, he thrusted into the fist of that hot stranger, which made the anal fingering of the jogger rougher, more intense and faster as well. And the kissing, licking, sucking and biting of the young boy from the stage door was just lovely and sweet, adorable sweet.

He felt the orgasm, which was rushing through his body, which tightened his puckering hole and his balls, which made his erection throb and twitch even more, which made him thrust even faster and more intense, and which made him moan even louder.  
He couldn’t hold it back any longer.  
He reached his climax with a long pleasurable and relish moan.   
There has been just one name, he was able to scream in pleasure and relish.  
“Oh fuck,… Benny,… Benny.” He moaned, and didn’t stop thrusting into his fist, which let his forefinger glide in and out of his entrance intensely.

He swallowed; his thrusts slowed down, his finger slid out of his hole, and he pressed his forehead against the glass front.   
He gasped and panted; he was out of breath, and took a few deep breaths, tried to fill his lungs with air.   
His cheeks were flushed, red like hell.   
He had wanked to a fantasy of three men taking care of him in the shower – maybe it had been just one man.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinked a few times.   
It had felt so good.   
And with a step back, he stood under the shower again. He closed his eyes, ran his fingers several times through his hair.  
His heart raced against his rib cage, not just because he had given pleasure to himself. It also raced because of that guy, because of these guys.  
He hoped, he would meet him again, some day.

When he got out of the shower, he just slipped into his bathrobe. He walked downstairs and laid down on his cosy and big sofa.

He closed his eyes, laid a hand on his chest. 

The missing feeling was back again, the feeling to miss someone, he never had talked to, despite the chance that the stranger was this young boy; the feeling of missing someone, he had seen 21 years ago; the feeling of missing the lost piece in his life, the missing piece, which probably was the stage door guy with his auburn hair, his cheekbones, and his shy smile.  
The feeling of missing someone, one fell in love with, even though one didn’t know him but knowing that it was probably just the right one – the missing piece in one’s life.


	7. Dolce Far Niente

_**\- Saturday, June/4 - 2016, 2.21 am, London, Dolce Far Niente [Marcello’s Restaurant] -** _

A normally filled to the last seat restaurant was empty.   
There were no guests in the Italian looking restaurant area, no guest in the tavern area, no guest in the pizza oven area and no guests outdoors in the big garden.  
There were just cleaned up tables in the restaurant.  
A cosy light lit up the stone wall room with the big pizza oven area; warm lights lit up the garden, with its wooden tables, stools and benches, flowers and bushes and trees; and a warm light lit up the tavern.

Just one man stood in the restaurant; he was about to close it. To be honest, he was playing with his smartphone, otherwise the restaurant would have been already closed, and Benedict on his way back home. 

He was the only person, who was here, and he didn’t even work in the restaurant. He had just hung around here after work, had eaten a salad, pasta and some dessert and had talked with Marcello, who was never really working, but talking with all his guests. His wife was out with some friends, and all the other employees already at home. And half an hour ago, Marcello had left, because of his son Lucas, who had texted him, to be fetched up from a party, which had become creepy and strange – something went wrong, it’s creepy and strange, had been the only informations Lucas had sent in a text message. So, Marcello had left to fetch up his son.  
And now, Ben was alone, helped his best friend out – closing the restaurant for him tonight.

Only when he heard a few footsteps, he raised his head again.  
Two men had entered the bar.  
A tall one with mostly grey hair, it seemed to have been brown before; he was slender, with some wrinkles, dressed up with black jeans, black shoes and a checkered button up shirt.   
The other one was not that tall, less wrinkles, lighter grey hair, with a bit of dark blonde, it had a fluffy swoosh; he was shaved, blue eyes smiled warmly, and he wore dark shoes, dark blue jeans, and a black polo-shirt, the first button was open. He was the one who talked, who talked with a warm, pleasant, deep and nasal voice.  
“Um, is the restaurant already closed?” The man asked with a charming smile.

Ben blinked a few times, ran his hand through his auburn hair.  
“Um, well, the restaurant is closed, so there is no food, but it’s weekend, so it’s open end in the tavern. You can sit down, but I need to say, I’m not really good at cocktails. I’m not working here.” Ben smiled, and tried to calm down his heartbeat.  
Marcello’s Restaurant was well known; Martin wasn’t the first celebrity he had seen in that restaurant; he had seen Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, Colin Firth, Simon Pegg, Tom Hiddelston, and these were just a few of them; but Martin was a special one.

Martin and his brother Jamie sat down on the bar stools.  
Martin smiled at him, his heart was racing; that guy behind the bar was definitely the Starbucks cup man, he bumped into more than a week ago, which meant that this was probably the jogger from the Founders Arms, and that meant, that this man was maybe the young boy from the stage door 21 years ago.  
He really hoped that this guy behind the bar would be the young boy; the young boy, he has never forgotten; the young boy, he missed in his life, even though they had never really talked with each other. And he really hoped that it turned out, that he was just a really lovely, handsome and funny man, and not just a fucking prick. 

Martin cleared his throat, smiled again gently.  
“So, you’re a criminal, who just broke in? If you would be so kind to make us two Whiskys, before you steal the money and the other stuff, we won’t tell the police anything.” Martin grinned.  
Jamie laughed, while Martin was hanging up his light jacket on a peg under the bar counter.  
Ben needed to grin.  
“The story with the criminal is much better than the real one.” Ben smirked, with a racing heart; he took two glasses.  
“So, what’s the real story? Are you an unknown Superhero, who just needed a drink? Or maybe you’re the police officer, who killed the criminal a few minutes ago, and now you need a drink.”  
“That’s much cooler, Martin. It’s another story.” Jamie grinned.  
“You’re right.” Martin smirked.

Ben grinned and put some ice and Whisky into the glasses. He put the two glasses onto the bar counter in front of Martin and Jamie.  
“Thanks.” They both said.  
Benedict smiled and nodded. Then he bowed his head, scratched his neck. His cheeks were a bit flushed, and it was all Martin’s fault. He had flushed cheeks, a racing heart, a dizzy head and a tingling stomach, just because of Martin.  
But he was really happy, that his brain hadn’t shut off the speaking system today.  
“No, um, it’s a really boring story. I’m just a teacher, and that’s the restaurant of my best friend Marcello, but he got a weird text message from his son, and now he’s fetching him up from a party. His wife is out with some friends, and the others are already home. It wasn’t much going on tonight, because of the festival in London. And well, he asked me to close the restaurant and the bar.”  
“Okay, that’s for sure not an exciting story, but it is a nice one.” Martin smiled to him.  
“Maybe the text message turns out to be something exciting. But anyway, thank you for letting us having a drink.” Jamie smiled.  
“We won’t bother you that long. I’m just done with work, we were at this festival, have eaten something, but we needed a drink. And then we found that restaurant. What’s the meaning of the name?” Martin asked curiously.  
He bowed his head and watched Ben – and the word hot was in his head again, together with: really cute, totally handsome, adorable funny.

Ben smiled to Jamie and to Martin.  
“Well, you need to come back to hear if the story behind the text message was exciting or boring.” He smirked a bit. “And it means, the delicious pleasure of doing nothing.”, Ben smiled at Martin. “And you don’t bother me.”  
Martin smiled to him softly.  
“Oh, that’s great, I don’t want to do anything right now. Someone could feed me with the Whisky.” Martin grinned.   
“We’re not your babysitters, Martin.” Jamie complained with a grin.  
“You’ve been my babysitter at some point of your life.” Martin grinned.  
“Yeah. That was a long time ago and it’s enough now.” Jamie laughed.  
Martin grinned; he looked to the Whisky glasses and then up to Benedict, who grinned widely.  
“Well, you’re not working here, right? So you’re allowed to drink with us, aren’t you? It’s on me.” Martin smiled charmingly, with a warm voice.  
He couldn’t get shy in front of his brother all of a sudden.

Ben bowed his head.  
“Thank you.” Ben smiled.   
They locked eyes with each other for a brief moment, for a brief, lovely smile, for a little charming wink from Martin, for a brief moment of Martin’s lip licking.  
Ben just smiled softly and bit his lips when Martin winked at him and licked his lip unconsciously. And then Martin bit his lip as well; he still smiled charmingly, but a bit shy as well. His eyes flickered back into his glass.  
Ben swallowed and turned around again to take a glass and to mix up a Gin Tonic.  
Martin raised his head again, while Jamie looked around the tavern area and the bit of the restaurant area he was able to see.

Martin eyed Benedict; his auburn hair was a bit curly; he wore a grey-blue shirt, the first two buttons were open, and one was able to see a white T-shirt beneath it; and Martin could also see grey jeans, which suit him very well, especially his butt looked really good in it – the whole guy looked really handsome in that casual outfit.   
He eyed his whole body, from the top to the bottom and back to the top. He was staring at his face, when Ben turned around again.   
They locked eyes immediately, and this time, not just Ben’s cheeks got red like tomatoes – Martin’s cheeks flushed as well.  
They bit their lips at the same moment, and swallowed at the same moment.   
Martin looked back into his glass, cleared his throat and looked up again.  
“Well, um, so… “ He raised his Whisky glass. “Thank you for having us for a last drink.”  
Jamie raised his glass as well.  
“Yeah, thanks again. That’s really nice.”  
Ben raised his glass and smiled.  
“You’re welcome.”  
They smiled at each other and clinked glasses, before they took a sip.

Jamie looked at Ben, put his glass down and smiled.  
“It’s really nice here.”  
“Yeah, it is. And I’m not just saying that, because my best friend owns it.” Ben grinned a bit.   
Martin and Jamie grinned; and after Martin had sipped at his glass again, he put it down and looked to Ben.  
“How long is it open on weekends, I mean normally, when there isn’t a big festival.”  
“Um, well, mostly until 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning. But, especially when there’s that summer festival going on in London the tavern and the outdoor area aren’t that exciting. I mean, it’s summer, and the weather is great, so it’s much more fun to go for drinks and dinner or snacks to the festival instead of sitting in a tavern. But the restaurant was fully booked as always.” Ben smiled.

Martin twirled his glass.  
“I think, I need to come back here to taste the food.” Martin smiled softly.   
“Then you need to reservate a table if you want to eat here in the next few weeks or months.” Ben grinned gently.  
“Oh, is it that good? Jesus, um,… well, maybe I get a table spontaneously. I mean, I know the criminal teacher, who’s the best friend of the owner.” Martin flirted with beaming blue eyes.  
Ben smiled widely. He really could just watch Martin, sitting on a bar stool, doing nothing – and he could watch that for hours. He wouldn’t get bored, and he would probably beam the whole time.  
“Maybe, you’re allowed to eat main menus in the tavern and at the bar like the criminal teacher and the best friend of the owner.” Ben smiled, and just winked at Martin.   
Martin smiled even more, he licked his lip, bit it and ran his forefinger across the rim of his glass.

Jamie sipped at his glass during the conversation. He sipped it down, yawned.  
“Well, I’m really tired. I would just use the loo, and then I would call it a day. Are you coming with me, Martin?” Jamie asked and stood up.  
Martin turned his head around.  
“Yeah. I’m tired too, I’m almost awake for 24 hours. Just go to the loo and let me finish my drink.” Martin said.  
Jamie nodded and stood up.  
Ben smiled at him.  
“It’s just around the corner.”  
“Thanks.” Jamie smiled, and walked away.  
Martin and Benedict looked after him.

And then they turned their heads to each other.

Martin smiled; his heart pounded against his rib cage. He bit his lip again. It had been a while since he had been that nervous and shy for the last time. In fact, his last relationship was like a long time ago – a relationship with a woman. It had always been a girlfriend in the last 20 years, even so he liked and loved men as well.   
It wasn’t quite confirmed for the public that he was bisexual, but for him it was a fact. And in his youth, he had been with some guys, and after that, he just got involved with women – probably because the right and perfect man had been standing in front of him 21 years ago and was standing, maybe, in front of him right now, again. 

Ben smiled at him as well - he was as shy as always.   
His heart pounded like mad, and he was afraid Martin could hear it.   
He was really happy that Martin was the one who spoke again.

“Are you often at this place?” Martin asked with a bowed head and a shy smile on his face.  
“I am, yes. Mostly Friday and at the weekend.” He said. “Um, well, not that I’m just sitting here every weekend. Sometimes, I’m just here for dinner or a drink.”  
Martin smiled with him, ran his finger across the bar counter, and sipped at his Whisky again.   
He couldn’t manage to ask him if they knew each other. It didn’t want to come over his lips. So he just asked something else.  
“Is there a takeaway service as well? Then I could use this service, until I’m allowed to eat main menus at the bar and in the tavern.”  
Ben nodded and smiled.  
“There is, yes. Just greet him every time when you call in no matter who picks up, and it won’t take long to get the permission.”  
Martin smiled softly.  
“Thanks for the secret tip. Could… could I ask for you to deliver my food?”  
Ben swallowed.  
“It’s worth a try.” Ben mumbled, and took a sip out of his Gin Tonic.

Martin smiled, he took a deep breath.  
“Um, well, before my brother is back from the loo,… how much do I owe you?”  
Ben bowed his head. He was incapable of mentioning that night 21 years ago.  
“Nothing. It’s on me. It’s on me, after what seemed to have been a really long day for you.” Ben smiled.  
“No,… really, that’s lovely, but I was the first one who said it’s on me.” Martin smiled.  
“But, I’m the criminal teacher. Maybe, I’m not a teacher at all, but a very bad and dangerous guy, which you shouldn’t make grumpy, by turning down his invitation.” He said seriously.

They looked at each other – sternly.  
But then Ben’s corner of the lip switched upwards – cheekily upwards.  
And they both burst out into laughter.  
“That was a great one.” Martin laughed. “Okay, okay. So, thanks to you.” He grinned.  
Ben grinned widely.

Jamie came back to them.  
“What are you laughing about?” He asked while Martin stood up from the bar stool.   
“The criminal teacher.” Martin grinned.  
He sipped down the last rest of his Whisky, ran his hand through his hair, and looked to Ben again.  
He reached out his hand and shook hands with him.  
“Thanks again. … It was a pleasure to meet a criminal teacher.” Martin smiled.  
“My pleasure.” Ben smiled, and shook his hand.  
Jamie smiled over the bar counter.  
“Thanks for the drink.” He smiled.  
“You’re welcome.” Ben smiled to Jamie.  
They shook hands as well.

Martin and Jamie went to the door, and before Martin disappeared in the restaurant area, he raised his hand with a smile.  
Ben raised his hand, too.


	8. Just A Little Charming Trick

_**\- Saturday, June/ 4 -2016, London, Dolce Far Niente -** _

Martin walked alongside Jamie and the Thames for a few meters, until he touched his bare arms.  
The jacket.

He rubbed his arms, turned his head to Jamie.  
“I’ve forgotten my jacket. We need to go back.” He said.  
Jamie turned his head around as well.  
“Jesus. Martin. Seriously? Come one little brother, I think you can walk back on your own. I’m really tired, and I would love to get back home which will take me over an hour. I mean, our ways would split at the street anyway.”  
“You’re a fucking lazy bastard.” Martin grinned.  
“And you’re a fucking forgetful man sometimes. How do you manage to learn your scripts by heart?”  
Martin just grinned and hugged him for a brief but soft and brother loving moment.   
“I will walk back on my own. Thanks for coming to London, Jamie.”  
Jamie grinned and hugged him as well.  
“It was lovely to see you, Martin. I will call you.” He smiled and stepped back.  
Martin nodded with a smile.

They patted each others shoulders, raised their hands – and while Jamie was walking towards the streets, Martin strolled back to the restaurant with a big grin.  
Acting was something really great, one could trick his own brother very easily, for example.  
Of course, he hadn’t really forgotten his jacket.   
He just had wanted to get rid of Jamie.   
He couldn’t flirt with that man and ask him about that stage door night while his brother was sitting next to him, just on the loo or wondering why he wanted to stay longer all by himself.

He walked back to the restaurant. He wouldn’t miss his chance again.  
He opened the door to the restaurant again, walked through the stone wall room, reached the tavern.  
The chairs were already on the tables now, and Benedict was putting the bar stools onto the bar counter at the moment.  
Ben turned his head around, when he heard the footsteps.

“My jacket.” Martin smiled softly, and pointed at the jacket under the bar counter.

Ben smiled, followed Martins finger, and then he saw the jacket. He took it and walked over to Martin – handed him the jacket.  
“Haven’t seen it, yet. Are you a bit forgetful?” Ben smiled gently.  
Martin took the jacket, he shook his head.  
“No, I’m not. It had just been a charming trick to get rid of my brother and to have a reason to come back, so that I can speak with you. Just the two of us.” He said; this time without the formal address.

Ben bowed his head; his heart was racing like mad again. He even could feel that his knees were as soft as a lovely warm chocolate pudding.  
“What? Um, why? I mean, why do you want to talk just with me?” Ben asked, spoke with him in an informal way.  
Martin looked at him. He bit his lip, took a deep breath and cleared his throat.   
“Um, yeah, well… I wanted to ask you something. Maybe it’s a bit strange.” Martin said, and played with his jacket. “You’re the man I bumped into a few days ago, right?” Martin looked up to him with soft eyes.  
Ben nodded.  
“Yes, we bumped into each other. You have been in a hurry.” He smiled softly.  
“Yeah, I was.” Martin smiled. “But I was grumpy with myself afterwards, because it wouldn’t have mattered if I would have been a few minutes late. Well, I was grumpy with myself, because you’re also the jogger from the Thames. We saw each other at the Founders Arms a few weeks ago, right?” Martin asked.  
Ben bowed his head again, he was stunned, wouldn’t have thought that Martin remembered that little moment at the Thames.  
“Yes, yes, we saw each other. And when I wanted to walk over, Amanda came out of the pub.”  
“Yeah, sometimes, she has a shitty timing. I’m sorry. I mean, you could have come over, anyway.” Martin smiled.

Ben looked down to the ground and raised his head again.  
“No. I mean, it’s clear that I know who you are, and well, I think there are a lot of people, who address you in restaurants and cafes, or bars, or elsewhere, during your free time, and I didn’t want to do that. So, when Amanda came out of the pub, it reminded me, that this right now is your private time.” Ben explained.  
Martin smiled a bit more.  
“That’s really kind and lovely, but it would have been alright.” Martin smiled softly. “Um, I’ve another question,… that’s the strange one.” Martin looked up to him. “Is there a possibility that we have met before,… years ago,… a lot of years ago, when we were young?” Martin asked hopefully.

Ben’s heart freaked out; he swallowed, bit his lip; his eyes were big, they eyed Martin.   
Martin bowed his head; he eyed Ben with a racing heart, with a heart that almost freaked out, because of Ben’s reaction to his question.   
He took a deep breath, bit his lip as well; his eyes flickered across Ben’s face – stunned, excited, hopeful.  
“We have, haven’t we? You… you’re not just the man I bumped into last week, you’re not just the jogger I saw last month,… you’re the boy from the stage door of the Playhouse Theatre I saw and I wanted to talk with… 21 years ago.”  
And Ben was just able to nod.

Silence.

They both stood in front of each other, looked at each other – stunned, amazed.  
They eyed each other, looked at each other again – excited.  
They smiled at each other, a little smile, which became bigger and bigger with each second.  
Green-silver eyes beamed into blue eyes.  
Deep blue and warm eyes beamed into deep sparkling green-silver eyes.

They both closed and opened their mouths again and again – searching for words.  
There was so much going on in their heads, so much what they wanted to say, so much what they wanted to ask.

Ben was the first one who spoke again.  
“You,… you remember that night?”  
“Yes, I do.” Martin nodded slowly.  
“I don’t know what to say or ask first.” Ben said honestly.  
Martin nodded.  
“It’s the same here.” He admitted. “There’s so much going on in my head right now, so many questions, and so many things I would love to say. But I’m a bit shocked… and well, I’m really tired. I can’t form all these words in my head to a proper sentence.” He revealed. “Um, how about a breakfast later, so that we can calm down a bit… and order the things in our heads again, and well, then we can talk properly in a few hours.” Martin suggested.  
“I agree with you, and breakfast sounds really lovely.” He said and his heart pounded against his rib cage. “Where,… where would you like to meet and when?”  
Martin smiled widely, he couldn’t hold it back any longer, he was just too happy, that they have found each other again.  
“Do you like the Founders? If yes, we could go there for a breakfast at 10 o’clock?”  
Ben looked at him, and this smile was too infectious; he couldn’t hold back his own wide smile as well – it flickered across his face, let his eyes beam even more.   
“Both is great, I like the Founders, and 10 o’clock is great as well.”

Martin smiled widely; he took a step to the side and laid his jacket onto one of the tables.   
“What are you doing?” Ben asked.  
“You’re not ready with closing. So, I help you, and then we could go for a little walk, until our ways split again for a few hours.” He smiled a bit more charming and flirty now.  
“You don’t have to do this.” Ben said with a tingling stomach.  
“Just tell me your name, Benny.” Martin winked. “And then we close this restaurant.” He smiled charmingly and stepped closer. He looked up to Ben. “Is it Benny? Or is it just Ben? Maybe Benjamin? Or Benedict?”  
Ben looked down to him, their bodies almost touched each other. He swallowed.  
“It’s Benedict. I’m Benedict.” He smiled after what seemed like minutes.   
And he reached his hand to Martin.  
Martin smiled, took his hand, shook hands with him.  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Benedict. I’m Martin.”  
“My pleasure.” Ben smiled widely.  
Ben let Martin’s hand glide out of his hand.  
They smiled at each other.

And in the next ten minutes, Martin really helped him to close the whole restaurant and tavern.   
Benedict locked the front door, put the key into his bag, and pulled out another one. He unlocked his bicycle, which was leaning against the wall of the restaurant.  
“Oh, you are here with your bicycle…” Martin said, while Ben shouldered his bag again.  
“Yeah, but I can walk, until our ways split. Where do you have to go?”  
“Notting Hill, I will use the tube.” Martin smiled.  
“Temple Station?” Ben smiled.  
“Exactly.”  
“That are just a few meters. And it’s not really a detour. I need to go to Camden Town.”  
“Then I say thank you for the walk to the tube.” Martin smiled.  
Benedict nodded and smiled.

They walked alongside, while Ben wheeled the bicycle next to himself.  
They turned their heads to each other at the same time, and they began to speak at the same time.  
“I really look forwa… “ They cut of their sentences, and giggled.  
“Um, yeah, I wanted to say the same. I really look forward to breakfast with you.” Martin smiled.   
“That’s exactly what I wanted to say.” Ben smiled.  
“And I’m looking forward to get to know you.” Martin smiled, and strolled with Ben along the Thames to the Temple Station.  
Ben looked down to the ground and raised his head again; he smiled to Martin and nodded.  
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to this as well.” He stopped at the stairs, which led down to the Temple Station. “Have a great ride home. And… sleep well.” Ben smiled.  
Martin smiled and nodded.  
“Thanks for a few things;… thanks for the Whisky, and thanks for the nice walk to the tube station, and thanks, I hope you have a great ride home as well with your bike, and I wish you a good night, too.” He said softly.  
Ben nodded.  
“Thanks, Martin.” His eyes sparkled greenish.

Martin smiled; he patted Ben’s hand, which was lying on the handle bar of the bicycle.  
“You’re welcome,… Benny.” Martin winked, and then he turned around to take the stairs down to the station.  
“You know,… normally, people, who call me Benny aren’t alive long after they called me Benny.” Ben said with a smile.  
Martin turned his head around; he already stood on the second step. He grinned.  
“We really need to talk about your profession, whether you’re really a teacher, a secret agent with the license to kill or an actual criminal. I hope, I won’t date the criminal in a few hours.” He winked again, smiled charmingly, shyly and gently – with a fast beating heart. He raised his hand.  
And then he walked down the stairs.

Ben stood at the beginning of the stairs, he looked after Martin until he couldn’t see him any longer. His heart raced like mad, and his hands grabbed the handle bar of his bicycle hard. He swallowed and took a few deep breaths.  
A date with the button nose guy Martin. 

On his ride back home, he hoped, that he wouldn’t meet the police – probably they would stop him since he grinned and beamed like mad, like he would be high on drugs and alcohol.

Martin in the tube was beaming as well, drumming with his fingers on his thigh. He couldn’t remember, when he had been as happy as he was right now.


	9. Breakfast Tea

_**\- Saturday, June/4 – 2016, 9.55 am, London, Southwark, Founders Arms -** _

The sun was already shining from the almost cloudless London sky. It was a nice and cosy warm summer morning, with a pleasant breeze.   
Ben slowed down his bicycle and stopped a few meters away from the Founders Arms. He had stopped right next to Martin.  
“Morning.” Ben smiled, and got off of his bike.   
Martin turned his head around and stopped as well; he smiled widely.  
“Hey, morning.” He said, and one could hear, that he was really pleased to see Ben.  
Ben smiled even more.  
“Have you had a few nice hours of sleep?” Ben asked.

He looked at Martin, who sized him up with soft blue eyes.   
Ben was wearing a grey T-Shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers. And he sized Martin up as well, who was wearing his glasses, a light blue shirt, navy blue trousers and dark sneakers.

Martin beamed at Ben.  
“Yeah, I mean, it wasn’t that long, was it? But I slept well. What about you?” Martin smiled, and pointed at the bicycle. “You seem to be awake enough to ride a bike.” Martin smirked. “I feel really lazy now, I came with a cab.”  
Ben needed to smirk, as nervous as he was, Martin made him feel comfortable, and his smirks and smiles were just too infectious.   
“I slept well, too, even though it wasn’t that long.” He smiled widely, and looked down to his bicycle and then back to Martin again. “I’m always awake enough to ride a bike; I mostly ride with it to work, despite it rains really much or something like that.”  
“Now I’m not feeling just lazy, but also unathletic.” Martin grinned. “You’re a teacher, I suppose, you’re teaching physical education.”   
Ben grinned and nodded.  
“I do, that’s right.” Ben giggled. “Let’s have a seat?”  
Martin couldn’t hold it back, he needed to giggle as well, and he nodded.

They walked to the outdoor sitting area with the bicycle, which Ben leaned against the barrier of the Thames.   
They both took a seat, smiled at each other.  
“I’m curious and a bit irritated. Last time we met, yesterday, or to be precise, a few hours ago, I looked into green eyes, now they are light blue, almost grey. How’s that possible.” He asked curiously, locked eyes with Ben.   
Ben smiled.  
“Um, it’s a disorder, my eyecolour changes with the light to all shades of grey, blue and green.”  
“That’s amazing. I will watch you, so I won’t miss the change.” Martin smiled and winked.  
Ben smiled and bowed his head.   
“Then you can’t eat breakfast.” Ben winked as well.  
“Oh, I’m able to eat without watching, it’s what I do while watching telly.” Martin grinned.  
Ben laughed.  
“Me too, but sometimes I stop eating, because it’s too thrilling. Then my mouth is open, and the food is in my hand, or my hand in the food.”  
Martin got infected by Benedict’s laugh.  
“Oh yeah, I can relate. But I really love food, so I’m able to eat almost everywhere and in every situation.”  
Ben grinned. 

Before Martin could open his mouth again, a man walked to their table.  
“Good morning, do you want to order something, or do you need more time?” He greeted them.  
“Morning.” They both said at the same time while turning their heads to the man.  
Ben turned his head back to Martin.  
“Um, I already know what I would like to eat.”  
Martin looked to Ben again, and nodded.  
“Me, too.” He smiled, and made a gesture that Ben should go first.  
Ben smiled, and looked up to the man.  
“I take the full English Breakfast, vegetarian version, and a cup of black tea, with two sugar and milk.”  
The man nodded, looked to Martin.  
“I’ll take the same, but just milk for me.”  
“Alright then.” The man smiled, and walked back into the pub.

Martin and Ben turned their heads to each other again.  
Martin smiled.  
“So, I wanted to ask you something.” Martin said softly. “What else are you teaching and where are you teaching?” Martin asked with an interested voice.  
Ben bowed his head.  
“I’m teaching Physical Education, English and History at the South Hampstead High School, it’s a private school, and I mostly teach the students from the senior school and the sixth form.” Ben smiled.  
“Oh, I like that. I would have liked you really much in school. I’m glad you’re not teaching math or anything like that.” Martin grinned. “The South Hampstead is the one with the really big glass front, right?”  
Ben grinned.  
“I was horrible in math, I shouldn’t teach that.” Ben grinned, and nodded. “That’s right.”  
Martin grinned.  
“Then it’s good that you studied something else.” Martin grinned. “I know the school, well, that’s maybe too much. I walked and drove a few times through that street.” Martin smiled. 

Ben grinned softly, he looked to Martin, who seemed to be really interested in him, he was listening very attentively.  
“It’s rude not to ask what you do for a living, even though I know it. I just pretend I wouldn’t know. So, Martin, what are you doing for a living?” Ben smiled widely.  
Martin grinned, but it became a true and happy smile. It felt good to be just a guy named Martin, nothing more or less.   
“Well, you know, I just play a bit of theatre, and I’m in a few series, shows and movies. Nothing special, just playing a soldier, a bad guy, a little hobbit or something else.” Martin grinned with a soft wink. “And I don’t need math for it, I just need to know how to read, how to remember, and how to pull a face.”  
Ben grinned.   
“Oh, an actor, I think, I would really like you.” Ben winked, and got a big and soft grin and smile back from Martin. 

The man needed to interrupt again; he put the plates down to Ben and Martin, as well as their teas. He wished them a nice breakfast, and after Ben and Martin had thanked him, he walked away again.   
And for a brief moment, they were busy with making their tea.  
Martin looked up.  
“Enjoy your breakfast.” He smiled.  
“Thank you, you as well.” Ben smiled.  
“Thank you, Benedict.” Martin smiled gently.  
They took their cutlery.

“Um, that’s exactly what I wanted to tell you 21 years ago, when I came to the stage door.” Ben said, and Martin looked across the table to him. “I wanted to tell you, that you have been really good in the play. I have watched it twice. The first time, I have been in it with my parents, but I have been too shy, to say anything to you. And the second time, I have watched it all by myself. I wanted to tell you, that you were good, and that I would love to see more of you, and that I’m sure, that I will.” Ben smiled. “Well, I was right, wasn’t I?”

Martin bowed his head, he swallowed down his beans.  
“Wow. Um, firstly, thank you for the compliment, that’s really nice. And, yes, you have been right, in the last 21 years, you’ve been able to see a bit more of me.” Martin smiled gently. “During this time, nobody came to the stage door to make such a compliment, I mean there was applause, and family and friends said it, but there was no one at the stage door. Now I need to correct it, there was someone – you.” Martin smiled. “It’s a shame, that this guy interrupted us. I mean, I was really tired and exhausted that day, but I would have made an exception for you. I would have loved to invite you for a drink. I really would have loved to talk with you and go for a drink” Martin said softly. 

While Ben was eating, he had listened to Martin.  
“You would have deserved it. I mean, now you’re much better, you’re a bloody awesome actor, but back then, you have been already pretty good.” They smiled at each other; Martin smiled thankfully, a bit shy, had mumbled a low ‘Thank You’. “You’re welcome.” Ben nodded with a smile. “I would have loved to go for a drink with you, it’s not that you have been just good in the play,… you know,… um what I want to say,… well,… there was another reason I wanted to talk with you.”   
This time they grinned at each other.   
Martin nodded, he had understood – his appearance.  
Ben smiled with slightly red cheeks, but he felt extremely comfortable with Martin, that his brain didn’t cut off his speaking area.  
“This guy was my best friend Marcello; he’s the owner of the restaurant, by the way. He’s always loud and he still has that bad timing. I was really mad with him, and he just told me, that it was just a guy, and that there would be much more guys out there.”

Martin grinned; and he really loved the conversation they had during their breakfast.  
“Really? It was your best friend? I thought it was maybe your boyfriend. Hmh, shit, that was one reason why I looked disappointed. I’m sorry, that I haven’t waited, I was a bit in shock.” Martin said softly. “But, well, he made up for it; he interrupted us back then, but we met in his restaurant again.”   
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. We should thank him,… a bit.” Ben smiled with Martin. “I never told him, that it was you, only after the Baftas in May, when he teased me with you, because, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” Ben admitted a bit shy, suddenly it was totally easy to open up to him and to speak with him.  
Martin smirked.  
“Oh, you were there? I never told anyone this story, only in May, when we saw each other here, I spoke about it with Amanda.” Martin smiled. He sipped at his tea.

And after he had swallowed it down, he needed to giggle.  
“Oh, she talked such nonsense after it. You know, she asked me, if it could be you, and we talked about your remarkable cheekbones. But well, we agreed that there are probably more people on planet earth than just you. And she said, that Timothy from the Sherlock set, the man who plays Sherlocks father, would have remarkable cheekbones as well, and that he would have a son named Benedict.” Martin giggled, and when he saw that Ben was laughing, he laughed as well. “It’s bullshit, isn’t it?”

Ben laughed and shook is head.   
He needed to put down his cutlery.  
“No. I’m not laughing because it’s bullshit.” Ben laughed. “I’m laughing because he is in fact my dad.”   
Martin almost chocked on his toast and tomatoes. He had stopped laughing and coughed. He cleared his throat.  
“What?” He asked with a confused and irritated voice.  
“He’s my dad, and the woman, who’s playing Sherlocks mother, is my mother.” Ben grinned.  
“Are you kidding me?” Martin asked, he watched Ben.  
“No, I’m not. Tim and Wanda are my parents.” Ben grinned. “I’m not joking. I mean, I’m named after him.”  
“Your name’s Benedict.” Martin said, he blinked a few times.  
“Yes, but Martin, your whole name is not just Martin, there’s a bit more. A John, a Christopher, a Freeman. And my whole name is: Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch.”  
Martin blinked a few times, he was speechless.

Ben bit his lip, he swallowed and cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Martin. It’s on me, that we haven’t met earlier again. I told you one of the reasons a few hours ago. I’m too polite, and I didn’t want to disturb you or bother you in your private time, and every time I saw you, you were in a hurry, or eating, whatever – enjoying your free time. And I was never at the Sherlock set because I didn’t know what to say, I was too shy. Well, I mean, I couldn’t forget you 21 years, not just because you’re well known, but because I really liked that young Martin Freeman, with his fluffy hair and his lovely smile, and the button nose. I thought you couldn’t remember that day, so it seemed a bit creepy, weird and strange to tell you that we met before. And, I was too shy, because I not just like you as an actor. The things I knew about you due to all the interviews,… well, we’ve a few things in common, and I like your personality,… and well,… then there’s your appearance. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.” Ben admitted. 

Martin blinked a few times, he eyed Ben, bowed his head. He cleared his throat.

“Jesus, you’re too lovely, kind and polite for this world. You could have come to me, every time, I would have said something, if it would have bothered me.” Martin said softly. “It’s not your fault. It’s okay, and maybe I would have done the same, if it would have been the other way round. It’s fine, Ben. I understand what you mean.” Martin smiled gently. “But how dare you to think I could forget a cute and handsome guy like you?” Martin smiled even more, cheekiness glittered in his eyes - and Ben needed to smile again. “I’ve never forgotten you, and I have thought about searching you, but the only thing I knew was that someone had called you Benny. Well, I’m such a doofus, your parents told me, that they had seen me in that play with you. But I never assumed, that their son Benedict, could be you.” Martin said.

Ben looked at him.

“We’ve lost a lot of time.”  
“Yes, we have.” Martin nodded. He bowed his head. “I’m really busy at the moment because of Sherlock, but, well, I would really love to see you more often, or hear from you more often. I would love to make up for the lost time. I really would love to get to know you, Ben. Could… could… we do that? Could we see each other, phone each other, and text each other?” Martin asked hopefully.  
Ben bowed his head, across his face flickered a smile.  
“I would love to do that.” Ben nodded. “I really would love to make up the last 21 years.”

They looked at each other, both with a fast beating heart, both with tingling stomachs, with weak knees, with a warm feeling in every fibre of their bodies – even though they didn’t know it from each other.  
They smiled at each other, soft and warm, it got wider, and it got more charming and flirty.

Martin pulled out his phone.  
“So, would you give me your number?” Martin asked, smiled and winked charmingly.  
Ben smiled broadly, and while he was giving Martin his number, Martin typed it into his smartphone.  
Ben’s phone buzzed in his pocket.   
Martin smiled softly, and winked. 

They enjoyed their breakfast, especially their conversation, and they both noticed the magical chemistry between them. It was really easy to talk with each other, and they both infected each other with their smiles; they made each other giggle and laugh – it felt like they hadn’t lost 21 years, it felt like they would be really close since 21 years, as if they had just lost sight of each other for a while, and now they went on where they had stopped.  
Martin couldn’t express how happy he was; it was like having him back; it was like a piece of his missing and lost piece was with him right now. And he hoped, he would get the whole piece one day; he hoped it worked out, the way he wanted it.  
And without Martin’s knowing, Benedict had thought exactly the same thing.

Martin had paid at the end for both of them, they stood next to the Founders Arms, were about to say goodbye to each other.  
“I’m sorry that I’ve to go.” Martin said. “I would have loved to spend the whole day with you. It was really lovely, Ben. Please be rude, and bother and disturb me as often as possible.” Martin beamed and winked.  
Ben beamed as well, he needed to grin.  
“I will do that, I promise.” Ben smiled broadly. “And you don’t have to be sorry, it’s okay. And, I can agree, I enjoyed the breakfast pretty much, it was great.” 

Martin smiled, he bobbed forth and back, bit his lip. And then he just hugged Ben, with a beating heart; he could feel that Ben’s heart freaked out as well, when Benedict hugged him back.   
They stepped back after a moment, smiled widely, and they raised their hands, before Martin turned around. 

And before Ben got on his bicycle, he looked at his phone, and opened the message Martin had sent him, when they had exchanged numbers.

_**You look handsome. And I’m not done flirting with you…** _


	10. Charming Text Messages

\- Monday, June/20 – 2016, 1.50 pm, London, South Hampstead High School -

During the last two weeks Benedict and Martin hadn’t been able to see each other.  
Martin had been in Cardiff throughout the week, and unhappily, he had had appointments at the last two weekends.  
Nevertheless, they had been in contact during the last two weeks.  
Not just a few texts.  
They had texted each other every day, and they had called each other almost every day, mostly when Ben had been back from school or Martin had been back from the set.  
And when Martin had shot during the night, just then, Martin and Ben hadn’t called each other, or they had just called each other in the morning between two classes.

Most of the times, Ben had been lying on his sofa at home, with a T-Shirt and a sweatpants; and Martin had been lying in his hotel bed with damp hair, a T-shirt and boxer briefs or just with a towel around his waistband.  
It was easy to talk with each other and it was easy to text each other. The chemistry they had was so good, that they never need to search for a topic to speak about, that they were almost able to finish the sentence the other had begun. They always found something to speak about immediately – they had spoken about their days at work, their weekends, books and music, things Martin was passionate about, things Ben liked very much. They had found a lot of common things, and they had found just as much disparities; which was great, they got to know new things and they noticed, that they’re accommodating one another.  
And at no point Martin had gotten the feeling, that Ben was just interested in him because of his profession, or that he was just interested in one of the characters he had played.  
He was just Martin, and Ben seemed to like him as just Martin pretty much.

Right now Benedict was sitting in class. It was already afternoon, and he had taken one of the replacement lessons.  
All Ben needed to do was looking over the students, which were doing their homework or the essays, they should do for the Modern Language class.  
His phone buzzed, and he put it out of his trouser pocket.  
A big smile flickered across his face, when he saw Martins name.  
He opened WhatsApp.

\----------------------------------------

_**Hey Ben, I’m bored, please help me out. I’ve an almost two hour break, and I’ve already eaten a lot of food.** _

Ben grinned and replied.

_Hey Martin, I’m not really bored, and I shouldn’t write back, because I’m in class, but I don’t want that you die of boredom. You could just eat a bit more, or you could just relax. :-)_

_**You’re kind. Thanks for saving me. I’ve eaten a lot of things, really, I should stop right now. I’ve already eaten two big plates with salad, potatoes, vegetables and fish, and I’ve eaten two sandwiches, and some sweets they have carried around.** _

_How can all this food fit into your small body? :-D_

_**I’m sorry to say, that I didn’t receive your last text. :-D** _

_Just stop eating, Martin. :-D_

\----------------------------------------

Ben looked up to the students, some of them were working alone, some of them were working together, and some of them weren’t working at the moment, but grinning at Benedict, because he was texting during class.

“It’s not fair, Mr. Cumberbatch. It’s Monday, and Monday sucks, and we’re sitting in class in the afternoon. Mrs. Turner isn’t here, but instead being allowed to go home and do our homework or the essays at home, we need to sit here. And then you’re texting with someone. We could rather do our English class of tomorrow, and then you could send us home earlier tomorrow, then you’ve a short day tomorrow, too.” Amelia said.  
Ben grinned at her.  
It was his main class, which was sitting here right now.  
“No, I couldn’t go home earlier, tomorrow; there’s a meeting tomorrow.” Ben grinned. “And Mrs. Turner wanted me to watch over you, while you’re doing the essays or at least your homework. And it’s not unfair - when I was in school, I haven’t had a smartphone to hear music or tweet while doing my homework or writing essays – that’s unfair.” He grinned.

It was right, there was music playing in the classroom, not loud, but loud enough, so everyone was able to hear it a little bit.

“It was sooooo long ago, Mr. Cumberbatch. When you were in school Twitter and smartphones didn’t exist.” Nick grinned.  
Ben just hummed.  
“We could talk about Setlock again, we all know you like Sherlock. And you know, that we like it, too.” Stephen said with a grin.  
“It’s the Modern Language class, and they don’t speak in other languages, so we’re not talking about Setlock right now.” Ben grinned.  
“Sherlock had said a few things in German.” Stephen said again.  
“That was years ago.” Ben grinned. “Shut up now, and do your homework and your essays, when I’m not allowed to text, you’re all not allowed to hear music, tweet or google some of the homework answers.” Ben said.

For a brief moment, they all looked at him and grinned, and then they bent down their heads again.  
Silence.  
Just the music was playing out of one of the iPhones.

Ben grinned and looked at his iPhone again.

\----------------------------------------

**_You could distract me from the food. ;-). Why are you able to text during a class?_ **

_It’s an honour to be allowed to distract you. :-). It’s not my class, okay, it is, it is in fact my main class, but it’s the Modern Language class at the moment, and it’s just a replacement. They’re writing essays and doing their homework until 3 o’clock, because her teacher for Modern Languages didn’t want them to go home early._

**_So they have an easy afternoon? It’s really kind of you, that you aren’t doing your stuff. But aren’t they upset with you, because you’re texting during class?_ **

_It’s a lot to do, and I’ve them tomorrow for two English classes anyway. And no :-D. I’m a really likeable teacher. And they are allowed to hear some music._

**_Jesus, you’re a really nice teacher. I think they all love you very much, especially the girls ;-). I would’ve loved to go to school, if I would have had a teacher like you. A nice and cute one. :-). You could have taught maths, and I would’ve loved it, maybe I would have been good at maths with a teacher like you, even though you’re bad at maths._ **

_Yeah, they like me very much. :-D. And I’m glad, that you’re not my student. I would get many problems, if you would be my student._

**_;-) Oh, which problems, Mr. Cumberbatch?_ **

\-------------------------------------

Ben grinned, and his cheeks were flushed, because of Martin’s flirting, because of Martin’s statement that he was cute.  
In the meantime, he knew that Martin was bisexual, and Martin knew that he was gay. And with that, there wasn’t just a chance for a great friendship – there was a chance for much more, for a romantic relationship. And to be precise, it was already a great friendship with a great chemistry – and with their flirting, they smoothed the way to a first date.

“Oh, Mr. Cumberbatch is dating someone, he has flushed cheeks.” Amelia grinned.  
Ben looked up and grinned.  
“And Amelia wants to give a presentation about the old English language tomorrow, if she doesn’t shut up and does her homework.”  
The others laughed, as well as Amelia.  
“As nice as always.” She grinned, and opened her maths book to finish the next homework.  
Ben just grinned, and made a gesture, that they all should go back to work.

\------------------------------------

_Well, if you would be my student: this would mean that you’re underage, so I wouldn’t be allowed to fancy you. That would be a shame. I would get a lot of problems, if I would flirt with you. So please, just stay the 44 years old talented actor you are. :-)_

**_The age wasn’t necessary ;-). But thanks for your compliment, you made me blush and grin shyly in my trailer, I’m glad no one saw it. Flirting with you sounds much better, than being a student again, and to have a cute, (to be honest – hot) teacher. If I stay just an actor, I’m also able to see the cute (no, the hot) teacher, and on top of that, I’m allowed to flirt with him._ **

_Stop flirting with me like that, I already have flushed cheeks – and 25 people are watching me, they already figured out that I’m texting a lovely bloke. What did I just say? Don’t dare stop flirting with me. And I’m rather flirting with this good looking (well, to be honest as well, he’s really hot) actor, than to have him here as a student, even though, he was adorably cute when he was younger, with his button nose, and his fluffy hair. Well, he still is adorably cute with his button nose and fluffy hair, he just became hot as well – and sometimes he’s cute and hot at the same time._

_**Jesus, my cheeks are burning. I’m sure, I look like a tomato right now, like a grinning tomato with shaking hands. It’s a long time since someone managed to make me shy and blush during flirting. Um, well,… okay, now I’m already stuttering during texting. What are you doing with me? I wanted to say, that it is the same for you. You looked really cute back then, and nowadays, you’re both – cute and hot. So, we’re in the great situation, that we’re allowed to flirt and all that – so we’re allowed to have a date as well. I’ve a weekend off. Would you love to have a date with me on Saturday?** _

_I managed that? Wow, now I’m proud of myself. :-) Please send a picture, I would love to see you as a shy grinning tomato. And I would love to have a date with you. And I’m free on Saturday. What do you have in mind? :-)_

\----------------------------------------

The school bell rang for a short break, and all the 25 students left the room with a grinning face to get some drink and candy from the shop in the basement. After that - just one class to go, and maybe Mr. Cumberbatch would be nice and let them go a bit earlier when they would have done their homework and the essay.

Ben grinned after them.  
He took a picture of himself, and opened Martins afterwards. He hadn’t lied. Martin wore his Watson-shirt, and he was really red like a tomato, the cheeks flushed, a big happy grin flickered across his face – but one couldn’t just see the boyish, cheeky sparkle in his eyes, one also could see a shy sparkle.  
And he sent his picture as well.

\----------------------------------------

**_I would prefer a quiet and cosy place, how about cooking at your place? You said you like cooking. :-)_ **

_Your picture is adorable, you little tomato. ;-). Oh, that’s a lovely idea, I would really love to cook with you on Saturday. I’ll send you my address._

**_And you’re a tall tomato ;-). It’s a really cute picture. I like your polo-shirt and your glasses by the way. 6 o’clock on Saturday?_ **

_Thank you for your compliments. You’re not wearing glasses right now, but you always look great with them. :-). 6 o’clock sounds nice. Can’t hardly wait to see you again._

**_:-) Stop your lovely compliments right now, charming guy. And I’m really sorry, that we couldn’t have breakfast or something like that at the last two weekends. I’m glad that I’m able to see you this weekend, Ben. And I hope the time will pass as fast as possible. I really enjoyed the breakfast, and I’m sure the evening with you will be as lovely as the breakfast._ **

_Oh, I’m not the charming one, you’re more charming than me. ;-). And it’s not your fault, it’s your profession, and there’s more to do than just learning texts and stand in front of a camera. So, all is fine. :-)_

**_I told you to stop these compliments. ;-) (Please don’t stop.). It seems that my break is over, Mark and Steven want to see me. Thank you for your boredom-rescue. I’m looking forward to our date. Have a nice one, Benny ;-)._ **

_I would love to rescue you again. ;-) I’m looking forward to our date, too. :-). Have a better one, Marty. ;-)_

**_Awful :-D, Mr. Cumberbatch._ **

_Don’t know what you mean, Mr. Freeman. :-D_

\----------------------------------------

Ben beamed; he put his phone into his trouser pocket again.  
During the last class of the day, Benedict helped the students – answered their question, helped them out. And in the end, they all were allowed to go ten minutes earlier.

Ben packed his things, fetched up his jacket and bicycle helmet in the teacher’s room. He was really happy, and he was looking forward to the date with Martin.  
He almost couldn’t believe that Martin had asked him out on a date, and he almost couldn’t believe that he rather wants to be just with him, than with other people in a restaurant.  
He was sure, it would be absolutely fantastic to cook with Martin and to enjoy an evening with him.


	11. Pasta, Wine And Flirting

_**Saturday, June/25 – 2016, 6 pm, London, Camden Town, Benedict’s flat -** _

Benedict stood in front of his big mirror in the bathroom. He ran his hand through his hair, sighed and looked at himself in the mirror. He eyed himself, especially his hair and his clothes.  
He had been at the barber shop this morning. His hair was a bit shorter, but still a bit curly. He scratched across his beard – maybe shaving would have been good.  
He scratched the back of his head.   
His hands unbuttoned the first and second button of his grey shirt, which hung out of his tight jeans.  
He sighed again. He was nervous, and he wanted to make a good impression.   
It was their date, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself, or look overdressed or underdressed.   
But his time to think about his outfit was over. 

The bell rang.

Martin stood on the pavement; he took a deep breath after he had rung the bell. He was nervous; his hand ran through his slightly styled hair. He wore a black Polo-shirt and cream-coloured trousers, with dark shoes. He had shaved, but he wore his black frame glasses.  
And when he could hear Ben’s voice out of the intercom, his heart began to race, and his stomach began to tingle.   
“Yeah?”  
“It’s me,… Martin.” Martin said warmly.  
“Great, come upstairs.” Ben said gently, and then the door buzzed.  
Martin smiled, and pressed the door open. 

He went upstairs with a bottle of red wine in his hand.   
The house had just a basement and the first floor.   
Ben waited at the door on the first floor.   
They smiled at each other, both hearts were pounding against the rib cages, both stomachs tingled; and they both thought about a way to say hello to each other.  
They both made a step forward, wanted to hug the other one. But they stopped, surprised by themselves.   
They smiled again, and then they hugged each other tightly.   
Martin stretched upwards and rubbed across Ben’s back.  
Benedict bent down a bit, and pressed Martin softly against his chest.

They breathed each others scent in, cleared their throats when they noticed it, and stepped back a little bit.  
Martin’s eyes beamed up to Ben in a warm and deep blue, and Ben beamed down with bright blue eyes.  
“Come in, Martin.” Ben said, and stepped aside.  
Martin smiled.  
“Thank you, Ben.”   
Martin went in and looked around, while Ben shut the door.  
They already stood in an open hallway, with an open living room and kitchen area. He could see a cosy looking big sofa, two armchairs, a fireplace, a big table, bookshelves – with a lot of books in it, a television. And the kitchen area also looked really great – with a kitchen island and a big fridge.  
A few pictures and paintings were hanging on the walls.   
The light was dimmed, and he could hear music playing in the background. 

Martin smiled to him.  
“It looks really cosy.” He said gently. And then he raised the wine bottle. “Um, I didn’t want to come with empty hands. And you said, you will shop the groceries, so I thought, I could bring at least a wine.”  
“Thanks.” Ben smiled, and smiled even more, when he saw the wine. “Oh, that’s lovely. But it would have been alright, if you would have come with empty hands. You’ve brought the dessert.” Ben said, without thinking – he bit his lips, and went into the living room. He shook his head slightly, and in his thought, he punched himself.  
Martin bowed his head, followed him, and looked a bit irritated.  
“Dessert? I didn’t make a dessert, should I have made one?” Martin said, a bit of panic in his voice, thinking, he had forgotten to make a dessert.  
“Just forget it, Martin. Please, just delete my babbling. Sometimes, I’m babbling without thinking beforehand, especially when I’m nervous, which I am at the moment.” Ben said, and walked with him into the kitchen area.

Martin put the wine onto the kitchen counter. It clicked in his head, and now he needed to grin, and he needed to laugh. He laid his hand on Benedict’s lower back and looked up.  
“Well, I’m just looking sweet. I don’t taste like candy.” Martin grinned charmingly.  
“Will you please forget about it.” Ben said with flushed cheeks and a beating heart. “I will check it myself,… one day.” He added with a mumble.  
Martin smiled softly with a tingling stomach. He crawled Ben’s lower back.   
“I’m curious what you have to say about it.” Martin winked. “Now I will forget about it, I promise.” He added flirtatious.

They locked eyes with each other and smiled. Ben had enjoyed the brief crawling, and he was already having goose bumps.  
Martin took his hand away.  
“Um, we wanted to make pasta. So, what do you want me to do. I’m ready for cooking with you.” He beamed.  
“Yeah, um, you could cut the vegetables?”  
“Fridge?” Martin asked, still with beaming eyes.  
He had looked forward to this date the whole day, to be precise, since he had asked him for a date. He already liked him as much as if they had spent the last 21 years together as friends or even more. Ben was such a nice and handsome and funny man, and he enjoyed his presence really much – and he enjoyed the texting and the phone calls as well. 

Ben nodded with a smile.   
He watched Martin; he followed his movements when Martin was walking to the fridge and taking out the vegetables.  
And Martin smiled charmingly at him with a very charming and flirting wink, when he reached him a knife and a cutting board.

It was hard to concentrate on cooking, not because Martin talked with him the whole time – and he talked with him about a lot of nice things; he asked him about his day, and his week, and about school and the music that was playing in the background. He was very interested and he listened very attentively, and he also answered the question about his week on the Sherlock set.  
The problem was that Martin just looked too cute the whole time, to be precise, this man was looking incredibly hot and adorably cute while cutting vegetables – and then his voice, and his laugh, his smile and beaming eyes, with which he looked at him over and over again.  
It just seemed as if Martin would live here. He seemed to feel really comfortable, he looked relaxed, he even behaved, as if he had been here before. 

The tagliatelle were boiling slowly.  
Martin was eating some of the red pepper pieces; he had already eaten in between - some of the zucchini pieces, mushrooms, and tomatoes.

Ben grinned.

“You know, we need the vegetables for the pasta, Martin. I think, there are much more vegetables in your little tummy than on the cutting board, or in the pan.” Ben chuckled softly.  
Martin looked up, he was ready cutting the vegetables – and he grinned softly.  
“Can’t be, I’ve just eaten a piece of this red pepper.”  
Ben laughed.  
“No, you haven’t. You’ve eaten from the zucchini, and the mushrooms and the tomatoes.”  
Martin grinned.  
“Have you watched me the whole time?”  
“Maybe. Let me think about it.” He said, and made a thinking face for a brief moment. “Oh, yeah. You’re right, I watched you 98 percent of the time.”  
Now, Martin was laughing.   
“How have you been able to cook, set the table and open the wine?”  
“I’ve multitasking skills when it comes to you.” Ben winked bravely.

Martin raised an eyebrow, smiled flattered. He took a piece of red pepper and stepped closer – really close.  
“I will check that. Let’s see if you are able to eat, to breathe and to look at me, while I’m feeding you.” Martin winked.  
Ben swallowed.  
“I will be able to show you my multitasking skills, but in a different way. I will eat, I will forget how to breathe, but I will look at you and I will blush and my cheeks will be as red as this red pepper.” Ben mumbled.  
Martin smiled gently.  
“Oh, let’s see, if you’re right.” Martin winked with a flirty voice. “Open your mouth, Benny.” He said warmly and flirty and charmingly.  
Ben liked the Benny this time.  
And he opened his mouth with a fast beating heart and a tingling stomach, with almost soft knees and already red cheeks.

Martin put the red pepper into Ben’s mouth.  
Ben closed his mouth, while Martin’s forefinger and the tip of the thumb was still in his mouth; it was a very welcome feeling.   
Martin felt Ben’s lips against his finger, liked the sensation very much. His heart was almost hyperventilating as his stomach tingled, as his knees were soft, as his cheeks blushed like Ben’s. He licked across his lips – Ben saw it.  
They had locked eyes with each other.  
Slowy Martin’s forefinger slid out of Ben’s mouth.  
Martin swallowed, and he needed to admit that he liked the fact that Ben was able to make him very shy.

Ben chewed the pepper, swallowed it, and he didn’t break eye contact with Martin, who licked across his lips again, juts to bite into them afterwards.  
He cleared his throat.  
“Um,… at… at the moment, you really didn’t taste like candy.” He mumbled.  
“Yeah,… rather like a lot of different vegetables,… and probably much like onion and garlic.” Martin mumbled.  
“Yeah, you taste a lot like onion and garlic,… but… but I like onions and garlic.”  
“Lucky me.” Martin muttered and cleared his throat.  
Ben nodded, before they took a bit of a step back.

While they have been cooking one had been able to feel the crackling romantic atmosphere, one had been able to literally grab it. It had been there the whole time – in their flirting voices, in their warm and flirting smiles, in their beaming and flirting eyes. One had felt it in every small touch – small and light and soft touches of their hands; gently little strokes across the spine, across the arm, across the hands; fondly pats. One had felt it it while they had joked and fooled around with each other; in every touch, they exchanged during fooling around – little pinches and punches and nudges; tousling through the hair.  
They hadn’t managed to take their hands off of one another.  
And it had felt like a normal evening, after a normal weekend day of a normal and happy couple.   
For someone, who didn’t know that these two men weren’t a couple – it had just looked like they would be a couple, happily together – there wasn’t a difference between these two, which were just dating, and a couple, which was madly in love with each other.

Before they had eaten their pasta, they had clinked glasses; they had exchanged a deep look – a look, which had been too long and intense, for just a dating pair of men.  
While they had eaten their pasta, they had talked with each other again.   
It was just too easy; it was so easy to find a topic to speak about, and they could just talk for hours with each other, without getting bored, without getting annoyed of a topic. And it was so easy to make each other laugh.  
The atmosphere had been great the whole time – and even during the dinner, there had been a romantic crackle.  
After their dinner, after cleaning up together, they had just enjoyed the rest of the evening on the sofa with the rest of the wine and much more talking and more soft touches.

At the moment, they were standing at Ben’s door. It was shortly after 2 in the morning, and they were about to say goodbye.  
They hugged each other tightly and tenderly.  
“Thank you, Benedict. Thanks for the really nice evening and the great date. I really enjoyed it.” He mumbled and rubbed across Ben’s back.  
“It absolutely was! Thank you for the great evening and that lovely date, Martin. I hope it wasn’t the last one.” Ben murmured and his hand caressed across Martin’s back, too.  
Martin smiled, he looked up to Ben, still hugging him.  
“It wasn’t the last one – just… just the beginning.” He said softly.  
Ben smiled with his beating heart; he could feel Martin’s beating heart, too.

They were still standing in the door frame, hugging each other, looking at each other.  
Both pairs of eyes flickered shortly to the lips of the other one, and back to the eyes. They licked their lips and bit them.  
And if it would be possible, they couldn’t just feel the racing heart of the other, they also would be able to feel the madly tingling stomach of one another.  
They both blinked a few times, cleared their throats and stepped back after biting their lips.

Martin scratched the back of his head.  
Benedict scratched his cheek.  
Their cheeks red like tomatoes.  
Their eyes were beaming – warm, flirting and charming; they sparkled shyly.   
Beating hearts, tingling stomachs, soft knees, dizzy heads let them be speechless for a moment.  
They looked around, cleared their throats again.

Martin bit his lip again; he was the first one who spoke again.  
“Well, um,... Benny,… good night.” He murmured and swallowed.  
“Um, yeah, yeah. Martin, have a safe ride home, and… sleep well.” Ben mumbled.  
Martin looked up to Ben.  
Ben looked down to Martin.  
They smiled.  
And then they hugged each other again – too long, too tight, too soft and loving.

Martin raised his hand after they stepped back again.  
“Bye.”   
“Bye.” Ben replied.  
Martin took a deep breath; he smiled again and then he walked downstairs.

Benedict looked after him, and only when the door fell into the lock, he closed the door of his flat.  
He leaned against it.  
Jesus, a kiss had been so close; Ben thought with a pounding heart.  
But would it had been good? A kiss – a kiss after their first date, after texts and phone calls, after they had just met properly for the first time 22 days ago.  
It was a bit fast wasn’t it?  
And on the other hand, they had probably waited 21 years for a kiss, for this kiss.  
21 years weren’t fast.

Martin ruffled his hair on the street. He took a deep breath.  
God, he would have loved to kiss him, to get kissed by this gorgeous man, with his gorgeous lips.  
But then he had thought, that it maybe was a bit too early.  
He snorted – too early, what was he telling himself?   
He was probably waiting for that kiss for fucking 21 years now.  
To be honest, deep down, he knew, that he truly was waiting for this kiss for 21 years now. He had just fallen madly in love with a young guy with auburn hair and sharp cheekbones, when he had been 23 years old.  
And this young guy, was now a grown up handsome, elegant and smart and funny man, who was in his flat – a few meters away from him.

And what had he done? He just got into a cab to go home.  
He wasn’t in his right senses.   
He really doubted his own sanity.  
He was such a doofus.


	12. Wet Dreams

_**\- Sunday, June/26 – 2016, London, 10 am, Camden Town, Benedicts flat, bedroom -** _

The sun was beaming through the light white curtains; the sun rays lit up the room, and the sound of singing birds sounded through the open window. A light wind tousled through the curtains.  
Benedict pressed the face into his pillow; he was awake and smiled into the pillow.   
Oh, the evening and the cooking and the dinner and the talking had been amazing with Martin, it had been absolutely perfect. He felt great, absolutely great, especially because of the kiss, and that incredible night full of caresses and sex.

He stretched his hand out, searched for Martins body – for his warm naked body. He couldn’t find anything: his hand just stroked across the empty bed.  
He lifted his head, opened an eye.  
No Martin, just and empty bedside.   
He laid his head on the pillow again, rubbed his eyes.  
Maybe he was on the toilet or in the kitchen to drink something.  
He still smiled widely, and still felt absolutely happy and satisfied, like everything was alright in his life right now. No wonder, last night, he had had a wonderful date, a great first kiss, amazing sex – and then he had fallen asleep in Martins arms.   
He yawned and ran his hand through his hair. He rolled on his back and took his phone, still grinning like a madly in love teenager. 

A message showed up.  
From Martin.  
He wrinkled his forehead, and opened the message.

_Good Morning, Ben. I just wanted to say thank you again. The date was really lovely – the whole date; the cooking, the dinner and the nice conversations, while drinking wine. I can’t wait for the next one. I hope you slept well! Have a nice Sunday._

Benedict blinked a few times.  
No!  
He put the phone aside and ruffled his hair.  
No!  
It had been a fucking dream. It had just been a fucking dream. At least the kissing and the sex and falling asleep in Martin’s arms.  
He had been so convinced, that they had kissed, that they had had sex with each other, that they had fallen asleep next to each other.  
He puckered his lips and looked at the empty bedside.   
Martin wasn’t on the loo or in the kitchen. He wasn’t here, he was at home. He hadn’t slept here, because they hadn’t had sex, because they hadn’t kissed.   
They had almost kissed, god, he had wanted to kiss him – but he had stopped, in fear, it would be too early – even though he was in a way convinced they both had wanted it.   
Why for god’s sake, had he let him go?

His good and happy mood disappeared.

For ten minutes, he had been absolutely happy; for ten minutes, he had smiled like mad, because he had been convinced that Martin was more than just a friend.  
He ruffled his hair again.   
He didn’t like dreams.

He closed his eyes again and tried to remember the dream.  
He could remember, oh, he could remember it quite well.   
A soft kiss, a gentle kiss, a tender kiss – pulling him into the flat again – a hungry kiss, a needy kiss, a passionate kiss – clothes sailed to the ground in the hallway, in the living area, in the bedroom – more passionate kisses, more needy kisses, more hungry kisses – passionate sex, Martin had topped, with such a great and intense rhythm – oh, he had been a fantastic and skilled lover.  
His hand found its way under the blanket; his hand ran across the fabric of his boxer brief – across his erection. He moaned in pleasure.

He could feel a wet spot, maybe it was from the night – it had been such a wet dream – maybe it was a wet spot again, just from the thought of it, just from the first touch this morning.  
The palm of his hand rubbed across the fabric again. He moaned again.  
His second hand found its way under the blanket and he shoved his boxer briefs down, pushed them down, until they were lying in bed.  
Such a great feeling without any clothes.  
His right fingers caressed teasingly across his throbbing erection, the left fingers caressed his stomach, his chest, his nipples.   
He purred and sighed and moaned. 

His head imagined Martin, and it didn’t feel strange – it wasn’t the first time he imagined Martin during a wank – god, he had imagined him quite often, a little too often.   
The hand around his erection disappeared; he opened his eyes, turned the head around, reached his hand out to the bedside drawer, opened it, and fished out the lube – while his right fingers caressed his upper body and the thumb was rubbing across his nipples.  
He bit his lip, moaned again and took his right hand off of himself.   
He poured some of the lube into his hand. 

Benedict angled his legs, spread them, his heels were pressing into the mattress. His head was lying on the pillow; he closed his eyes again, licked his lips again.   
And he moaned in pleasure and relish when he cupped his throbbing and leaking erection with his right hand, when he began to massage his balls with the left hand.  
In his head his own hands disappeared - he saw Martin, and it were his hands, which took care of his erection with an intense pressure; it were Martin’s hand, which massaged his balls softly and gently.  
His mouth hung open, he purred and moaned Martins name over and over again. 

He saw him smile, he felt his kisses on his upper body, his arms, his shoulders, his neck; he felt his sucking lips on his neck and his Adam’s Apple and his nipples; he felt him licking and nudging and biting his nipples, his neck and his ears.  
“Ohh, Martin!” He moaned in pure pleasure and with pure satisfaction.  
He could feel Martin’s warm body, between his angled and shaking legs.  
He could feel Martin’s hand, which took care of him with such a nice pressure, in between with a great teasing twirl, and with a thumb, which rubbed across the tip of his cock. He felt his own precum.  
The other hand stopped massaging his balls. The forefinger circled his puckering hole.

“Oh god, Martinmartinmartin.” He moaned in relish, almost with a bit of begging and pleading.

Ben pressed his head into the pillow, his eyes were closed – in front of his closed eyes he still saw a lovemaking Martin.  
His heart raced, his rib cage rose and fell in a fast rhythm. His naked skin was heated. His thighs were shaking; he pressed his heels into the mattress. He sweated; he gasped and panted, he moaned and purred, he sighed – loudly, especially Martin’s name.

The forefinger, his forefinger – in his fantasy, Martin’s forefinger, slid into his hot hole.  
He moaned again.   
The finger slid softly in and out, rubbed teasingly across his prostate every now and then.   
The other thumb rubbed across the tip of his cock; the hand was wrapped around his erection all over again.   
He couldn’t hold still any longer.  
He moved his hips, thrusted into his fist with an intense and fast and wild rhythm. And a second finger and a third finger thrusted into his puckering wet and hot hole in the same pace.

He could feel the orgasm rushing through his body.   
He was so damn close, so close.   
He felt the rubbing across his prostate – and then he needed to press his head even more into the pillow, and his heels even more into the mattress.  
He arched his back, spread the shaking thighs even wider.  
And he felt his climax, he felt his cum, which was drooling onto his right hand, and he could feel his rim muscle, which clenched around his three fingers.  
He groaned and moaned without holding back anything.  
“Fuck. Martinmartin… Martin… Martin.” The groan and hoarse moan became a soft purr and sigh and a whisper, while he still thrusted into his fist, and his fingers into his wet hole – softly and slowly , it was just a breath. “Martin,… hmmm, Martin.”

He enjoyed the last waves of his orgasm.  
He was sweating and gasping.  
And he opened his eyes slowly.

He was satisfied and happy again.  
He felt great.

He freed himself out of the blanket, leaned out of the bed, took the T-Shirt, which was lying there and cleaned up his hands and his stomach and chest. He put the T-shirt aside again, and rolled back onto his back.

He ran his hand through his hair, licked his lips and took a deep breath.  
The second version of his morning had been really good and great. The fantasy about Martin had been really satisfying and redeeming – after such a wet dream.  
He hoped, that he would feel Martin’s hands, Martin’s lips and tongue and teeth, Martin’s warm body, Martin’s cock for real some day.  
Not just to have sex with him.  
He wanted to feel it not just because of the sex.  
He wanted to feel it to be his significant other.

He would have loved the first version of his morning much more. It would have been great: Martin next to him, maybe still sleeping or awake; cuddling with Martin, kissing Martin, get kissed by Martin, having sex with Martin, taking a shower with Martin, having breakfast with Martin. 

He wanted to be loved by him, and he wanted to be allowed to love him back.


	13. Entertain me, Sugarnut

_**-Tuesday, July/19 – 2016, late afternoon, Wales, Cardiff, Pinewood Studios -** _

Yesterday, the Sherlock cast and crew had shot during the night, and today they had started a bit later. At the end of the week, a few of them would fly to Los Angeles, to attend the San Diego Comic Con. The few of them would be: Robert as Sherlock, Mark as Mycroft, Amanda as Mary, as well as Steven and Sue.   
This week would be really exhausting. A lot of night shoots and a lot of really long days. And so, Martin was really happy, that he was having a little break right now. 

He fetched up some food from the catering, and then he walked to his trailer.   
He unlocked the door, went in, placed the plate onto the table and made himself a nice cup of tea, before he sat down.  
Martin took a sandwich and bit into it.  
The silence was great – on the set of 221B Baker Street it was always full and loud; and suddenly a bit of silence felt like the best thing on planet earth. 

His thoughts drifted to Benedict.  
They had texted each other, they had called each other – in the last almost four weeks. Martin hadn’t always been able to text back properly or to call Ben, but he had tried to find some time for it. And otherwise, he had emailed him - a long and proper e-mail, and not just a fast little text.   
They hadn’t met again, since their first date – or their second date, if the breakfast counted as a date.   
He would have loved to meet him again, and more often in the last four weeks, but he had been too busy. He felt really sorry because of it, and he had already apologized a few times – but Ben had been very understanding. Even though, Martin knew, that he would’ve loved to meet him again as soon as possible. 

He smiled to himself, while he was eating his sandwich.   
That date had been amazing. He had really loved it. It just had been perfect for him. Okay, except the end of the date – but this was his own fault, he just should have risked something. But the rest had been quite perfect.   
The quiet and cosy time, just for the two of them.  
The cooking and the dinner and their conversation – the music in the background.  
The flirting, the little touches.   
Oh, the little touches – especially Ben’s lips on his forefinger. Oh, he had felt a bit of his tongue as well. Just by the thought of it, goose bumps covered his whole body, and the butterflies in his stomach were busy again. 

Time.  
Now he was having time.

He put the sandwich aside, took his phone from the kitchen counter next to him.   
He opened WhatsApp, opened the chat with Benedict.  
He typed a message, as he saw that Ben was online right now.

_**Hey Sugarnut, how are you?** _

He had sent it, before he could think twice about this pet name.   
Oh Jesus, why had he sent this?  
He shook his head and bit his lip.  
He hoped that Ben wasn’t grumpy with him now. The last thing he wanted was to scare off this gorgeous man and to mess this up.  
And he read Ben’s message with a racing heart.

\----------------------------------------

_Sugarnut? Then I’m calling you Sweetheart. ;-) So, hello Sweetheart. I’m fine. I hope you’re fine, too._

_**I wrote that without thinking, and then I’d already sent it. But I think, it’s fine with you, when you just began calling me sweetheart. I’m okay, a bit tired and exhausted. Could you entertain me a bit, Sugarnut? Or are you still in school?** _

_Sugarnut is fine, Sweetheart. And I can entertain you. No school, no students, but sleep ins until the beginning of September – it’s vacation time since a few hours. :-D_

_**Oh, really? Is it already vacation time again? Jesus, the year passed by pretty fast. So what will you do on your first vacation day, Mr. Cumberbatch? Figuring out, how to torture your students in the next school year? :-D** _

_:-D No, Martin. I have never tortured my students – at least, not in my point of view :-D. I won’t think about school in the next days and weeks. Today and tonight I will just celebrate with Marcello and his wife and a few other friends._

_**Well, maybe your students think something else about this. I need to check that someday :D. Celebrate? Are you celebrating the end of the school year? Or what are you celebrating today?** _

_Well, I could celebrate that as well. But, um, well, I celebrate my birthday today – in a few hours, in Marcellos restaurant, it’s closed tonight for us._

_**What??? You’re kidding, right? It’s not your birthday today. Come on, Ben, don’t tell me that today is your birthday. I will feel really bad, when today is your birthday.** _

_I don’t want you to feel bad, but I need to tell you, that today is in fact my birthday._

\---------------------------------------- 

Martin looked at the last message.  
Now he was feeling very bad.  
If he would have known, he would have bought him a present, and would have sent it to him, and he would have called him straight away in the morning.   
He took a sip of his tea, and then he called Benedict.  
He didn’t just want to send a silly text.

“Martin?” Ben said with a surprised voice.  
“Sugarnut… “ Martin smiled, and he could literally see Ben’s huge smile. “Happy Birthday, I wish you all the best, and a great party with your friends tonight. I know we don’t know each other for a long time – at least not properly. But please stay the way you’re, you’re a great man, and you’ve a lovely personality.” Martin said warmly.  
“Aww, thank you so much,… Sweetheart.” Ben smiled. “It’s great to hear your voice. Thanks for your wishes, and thanks for your compliments. All I can do is giving these compliments back.” Ben said softly.   
Martin smiled widely.  
“Why haven’t you said anything?”  
“Well, I can’t just tell you, when my birthday is. You haven’t asked me. You really shouldn’t feel bad about it, Martin. You haven’t known it, so it’s all fine, it would have been fine, if you wouldn’t have called or sent any congratulations.” Ben said with a gentle voice.   
“You know my birthday. You really could have told me that.” Martin said fondly.  
“Well, it’s all over the internet, Martin.” Ben grinned.  
“Yeah, yeah.” Martin grinned.

Martin took a sip of his tea again.

“May I ask, how old you are today?”  
“I turned forty today.”  
“Forty???” Martin asked. He was stunned, he really didn’t look like someone who turned forty today. “I just felt okay with the birthday thing. Now I’m feeling bad again. It’s such a big birthday and I haven’t a present, and I’ve almost missed your birthday.”  
“That’s really not necessary, neither feeling bad, nor a present, Martin, really. It’s all fine.” Ben said with a smiling voice.   
Martin hummed.  
“I don’t know if I can leave it like that. Anyway,… birthday boy, so you’re celebrating today, why not at the weekend?”  
“Just leave it, Martin.” Ben chuckled. “Well, a lot of my friends and my parents are free this week, but they have appointments on the weekend, or are on vacation. So we thought, we could just celebrate today.” 

Martin nodded, he was quiet for a moment.  
And then he cleared his throat.

“That sounds great. Lovely to know, that you will be able to celebrate with your friends and parents,… if you want, you can greet them. Um, so if you celebrate today,… um, does that mean, that you’re free this weekend?” Martin asked with a stumble.  
“Yeah, it means that I’m free at the weekend.” Ben said softly.  
“Well, I’m free as well. I’m not going to the Con, I don’t like Cons, the one time for the Hobbit had been enough for the rest of my life. Um, well, could you imagine to spend Saturday evening with me?”   
“Oh yeah, the Con is this weekend. Yeah, I know, you didn’t like these things.” Ben smiled. “Do you want to have a date with me?”  
“Yeah, I would love to have a date with you, maybe again at your place – it had been lovely the last time, just the two of us.” Martin said flirtingly.   
“Sounds really great!” One could hear Ben’s beaming voice. “What do you have in mind?”  
“Nothing, Sugarnut.” Martin beamed as well. “It’s up to you, it’s your birthday date.”   
“Hmh, I think, I would love to have a movie night and takeaway with you, Sweetheart.” One could still hear Ben’s beaming voice.   
“Sounds lovely. Same time?” Martin smiled and beamed.  
“Same time. I can’t wait. It’s probably the best birthday present, a date with you.”  
“Aww, my cheeks are burning, Ben. Stop being that cute. I’m looking forward to see you.”   
“I can’t stop this, it just happens with you.” Ben said gently. “I would love to go on with this nice phone call, but I need to use the shower and get ready.”   
Martin smiled widely.  
“It’s fine, someone knocked at my trailer, anyway. So I need to hang up as well. It was lovely to hear your voice. Enjoy your birthday, and have a great party later.”  
“Thanks for calling, Martin. And thank you again for your congratulations. See you on Saturday.”  
“My pleasure.” Martin said with a warm voice. “See you, Sugarnut.” Martin beamed.  
They could literally hear the other one smiling.

They hung up.

Martin laid the phone aside, took the rest of his sandwich and left the trailer again.  
If it would have been possible, he would have driven back to London, for this birthday party, to surprise Benedict.  
But it wasn’t possible.   
They would shoot today, until the beginning of the night, and tomorrow they would start really early, before Mark, Sue, Steven and Amanda would fly to LA on Thursday; Robert would fly on Friday; and he himself would stay in the UK, and would shoot for Sherlock - that horrible scene again, without anyone else, and maybe he would feel a bit more comfortable without everyone watching; at least not Mark, Robert, Amanda, Sue and Steven.

Every time, he thought about the upcoming date, he got a fast beating heart, a tingling stomach, a warm feeling – and every time, he needed to grin and beam madly.

When he was back in the hotel room, he thought about a birthday present for Ben.   
He wouldn’t go to this birthday date with empty hands.


	14. A Second Date

_**\- Saturday, July/23 – 2016, 6 o’clock, London, Camden Town, Ben’s flat -** _

The cabbie stopped in front of Benedict’s flat.  
Martin leaned forward, gave the cabby the money and thanked him for the ride, before he got out of the cab and closed the door.  
He walked to the front door of the house.  
He took a deep breath – he was as nervous as the last time. His heart was racing, his stomach was tingling – just by the thought of seeing Ben in a few seconds; he could feel the nice warm feeling in every fibre of his body.   
The forefinger pressed the button next to the name B. Cumberbatch.   
He was beaming, and bobbed from his tip toes onto his heels and back.

He beamed even more when he heard Ben’s voice.  
“Martin?” He asked.  
“Yeah, it’s me, Ben. I would love to come in.” Martin smiled widely.  
He heard the buzz and pressed the door open.  
“What are you waiting for?” Ben said with a smile.  
Martin grinned.  
“Prick.”  
Ben laughed.  
And Martin began to laugh as well.   
He got in and walked upstairs.

Ben was already waiting at the door; he leaned against the door frame, and when Martin saw him, he eyed him – and immediately his heart was pounding even more against his rib cage.  
Ben wore a black polo-shirt and dark jeans, with socks. His hair was styled, and Martin could already smell the great perfume from the last date. This time Ben was shaved.  
And he noticed that Ben eyed him as well.  
He wore a polo-shirt as well, but a dark blue one, and his jeans were a bit brighter. His hair was styled as well, into a fluffy swoosh to the right, he wore his glasses again, and he was shaved as well.

They smiled at each other – both with sparkling eyes, and both with a wide and natural and authentic happy smile.  
Martin closed the distance, and this time, they didn’t hesitate, they just wrapped their arms around each other and hugged each other tightly. Martin hugged him as good as possible with two full hands. Benedict caressed across his back, which made Martin almost snuggle up, since he was enjyoing the caresses.  
He cleared his throat and stepped back.  
Ben squeezed his shoulder and smiled widely.

“Hey, it’s great to see you. Come in.” He stepped aside.  
Martin smiled and got in. He turned to Ben, who closed the door.   
“Hi. Yeah, it’s great to be here again.” Martin smiled.  
“You’re always welcome. Um, well, you can slip out of your shoes if you want to. I mean we wanted to watch movies later,… it’s more comfortable without shoes.”  
“Thanks, Benedict.” Martin said, while he slipped out of his shoes.

Martin followed Ben into the living and kitchen area.  
And like the last time, music was playing in the background.   
Ben turned around to Martin.  
“What is all this stuff in your hands?” Ben asked, and bowed his head.  
Martin looked down to his hands and came to Ben. He put the things down onto the kitchen island.  
“It’s all for you, well, one of it is for us.” Martin smiled. He pointed to the two wrapped presents. “These are your birthday presents.” He smiled and looked to Ben, who wanted to say something. Martin raised his hand, he cut him off. “No, Ben. Don’t say it. I know, you haven’t expected anything, but I wanted to buy you something. It’s fine. I really wanted to buy something for your birthday, so here are your presents.” Martin smiled, and got a soft smile from Ben. “And the wine is for us,… for our date. The last time, you said, you liked the wine, so here it is again.” Martin smiled softly.  
Ben bowed his head, looked to the two presents and the bottle of this delicious red wine. He turned his head to Martin again.  
“Thank you, Martin. That’s very kind of you.” Ben smiled gently.  
“My pleasure.” Martin winked.

Ben still smiled at him, he grabbed the bigger one.  
“I need to open them. I’m too curious.” Benedict said.  
Martin watched Ben, who unwrapped the first present, which was a book, the new book of his favourite author.  
“I hope, no one else has bought you that book, already. If you already have it, I can give it back and buy you another one.” Martin smiled softly.  
Ben beamed down to him.  
“Wow, that’s great! No, no. I don’t have it. They’ve all been afraid, that I already have it. But, I haven’t bought it until now,… and now, you’ve bought it for me. Thank you, Martin.” Ben beamed, he really looked forward to a nice summer day in the park with this book.  
“Oh, lucky me. You told me that you like his books, and I thought, it’s a way to get you out of boredom, Mr. Cumberbatch, during your vacation time.” He wobbled charmingly with his eyebrows.  
Ben grinned, and smiled flirty after that.  
“I can teach you something, during my vacation time – you said you want to be my student.” He smiled in a flirty voice.   
Martin smiled charmingly.  
“I think we will find something that you can teach me.” He said with a warm and flirty voice.  
“I’m sure we will.” Ben winked with a racing heart.

Ben laid the book onto the kitchen island and took the envelope. He opened it, pulled out two tickets - and immediately his mouth hung open. His heart raced, not just because of Martin’s presence, it also raced like mad, because of the present.  
He still eyed the tickets, and didn’t know what to say, even a ‘Thank you’ was too difficult. He was speechless.  
He raised his head, looked to Martin, opened his mouth, closed his mouth, opened it again. He blinked a few times and cleared his throat.  
“Um,… speechless.” He managed to say. He put the tickets and the envelope down on the kitchen island. “I need to hug you.”  
Martin smiled widely.   
“Then, please, just do it.” His eyes sparkled, and he opened his arms for Ben.

Long and strong arms pulled the small and fluffy body into a tight hug.   
Martin smiled and wrapped his arms around Ben’s back; his hands caressed the back upwards to the shoulder blades, pressed him a bit closer; his left hand caressed further upwards and patted Ben’s back of the head.  
“You told me, that you love Pink Floyd,… I know, you have to wait for the concert until the end of September, but in between, you can read the book,… a few times.” Martin said. “Well, it’s your favourite band, and David Gilmour is your idol,… there’s a backstage pass in the envelope as well. So you’re able to meet them, before and after the concert.” Martin said gently.  
Ben swallowed.  
“Honestly? Jesus; Martin. A thank you isn’t enough for that.” Ben beamed, and in his voice one could hear, how excited and happy he was. He hugged Martin tighter.  
“Your thank you and your hug and your excitement,… and this date are absolutely enough, Ben.” He patted Ben’s back of the head and stepped back.

They looked at each other.

Ben’s eyes sparkled green and turquoise and had a light golden touch.  
And Martin’s eyes sparkled with a deep blue. He was beaming as much as Ben. That beam was infectious, and he was deeply happy, that he had been able to give Ben such a treat.

“I’m still speechless.” Ben smiled widely. He caressed across Martin’s upper arm. “Thank you very much, Martin.”  
“My pleasure.” Martin beamed. He squeezed Ben’s shoulder. “I would have loved to come with you. But, you know, I already told you, that I will fly to Australia in mid August, and I won’t be back before October. But, I think, you will have fun with Marcello, or someone else you want to share this with.”  
“I know, you will do that father-daughter-zombie movie. It would have been the cherry on the cake, if I could have enjoyed this evening with you.”   
“I would love to see a few pictures, when I’m in the outback.” Martin smiled.  
“I promise, I will send you pictures.”  
Martin smiled and caressed across Ben’s upper arm.

Ben beamed and looked around.

“Jesus, I’m a bad host. I haven’t offered you something to drink, yet. What do you want to drink?”  
“It’s fine, I’m still alive. How about opening that bottle of wine. I would love to clink glasses with you, to your 40th birthday.”  
Ben nodded, walked around the kitchen island and took a corkscrew. He grabbed the bottle.  
“What do you want to eat?” Ben asked.  
“Hmh, I don’t know. I’m open for everything. But, if you wouldn’t mind, I think I would love to try the food from your best friend’s restaurant.” Martin smiled.  
“Oh, yeah, we can do that.” Ben smiled, and pointed to a drawer in the kitchen. “There is a menu card.” He still smiled and opened the bottle, while Martin walked to the drawer.

While Martin took the menu card out of the drawer, Benedict took two glasses and poured the wine into them.  
Martin came back to him, put the card on the kitchen island, took the glass, Ben handed him.   
They locked their eyes with each other, smiled.  
Martin got lost immediately. He watched Ben’s eyes, which switched from green-turquoise-gold, to a warm and deep green. He probably could just sit next to Ben, watching his eyes all day long.  
Benedict got lost in Martin’s warm and deep blue eyes – deep like the ocean and warm like the sunny sky. 

It wasn’t just a brief eye contact.  
It was hard for both of them to break the intense eye contact.  
They cleared their throats. 

“To you, Ben.” Martin said warmly.  
“And to a lovely date.” Ben added with a smile.  
“Yeah, and to a lovely date.” Martin smiled even more.

They clinked glasses and took a sip.


	15. Movie Night

_**\- Saturday, July/23 – 2016, evening, London, Camden Town, Ben’s flat -** _

The date went well. 

While they had drunk their first glass of wine, they had looked through the menu card of Marcello’s restaurant, to be precise Martin had read through it – Benedict knew the menu card by heart.   
Martin had asked a lot of things, but Ben had just said, that everything was tasty and delicious, which hadn’t made it easier to decide.   
In the end, he had picked one of the pizzas.

At the moment they sat on the sofa.  
On the coffee table in front of them, stood the bottle of wine and the two glasses, as well as water, and two other glasses – and the cutlery was lying on the coffee table, too.  
“So,… Sugarnut.” Martin winked with slightly flushed cheeks. He smiled with Ben. “Which movies will we watch?”   
“Well,… Sweetheart.” Ben winked with slightly flushed cheeks, as well. They both smiled again. “I have a lot of DVDs, and there are a lot of films in the catch-up TV.” He smiled. “Maybe we could watch The Hobbit, or Love Actually, Fargo, Sherlock, the Cornetto Trilogy, Wild Target, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, and so on, because there’s this actor in it,… the hot one, with the small and fluffy body, and the little tummy, and the grey hair, and the blue eyes and the button nose. Do you know him? He looks like a hedgehog.” Ben tried to say it seriously, but he needed to grin at the end.

Martin needed to laugh, he wiped the tears away.   
He was still laughing, and only when he had calmed down properly, he answered.

“Oh, I’m not much into movies and films and series. I don’t know any actor or actress. And I have never heard of an actor, who could be hot, when he’s small and fluffy, with a little tummy and grey hair and a button nose – and when he’s looking like a hedgehog. What’s his name?” He tried to act it seriously and a bit dumb, but he needed to grin as well. It was Ben’s fault, he was grinning widely and amused.  
“Oh, it’s possible, absolutely possible. And he can look hot and cute at the same time. His name’s Martin Freeman.” Ben grinned.  
“Freeman? Martin Freeman?... Ooooh,… that’s me!” Martin needed to laugh. He had wanted to be surprised, but he had failed. 

They laughed and giggled together.

“Are you always laughing that much, during acting a scene?” Ben asked laughing.  
“No. Normally, I’m not sitting opposite of a hot teacher, whose laugh and grin is immensely infectious.”  
Ben grinned softly.  
“So, because I’m a lucky one, this Martin Freeman just walked out of my television and is sitting next to me right now, I would suggest, to watch something else. I love your movies, but I would drool the whole time.” Ben opened up.  
“Maybe I would like to see that.” Martin grinned. “Um, no, jokes aside. How about James Bond?” Martin suggested with a smile.  
“No, you don’t.” Ben grinned. “James Bond is great. I’ve the collection. Which one do you want to watch?” Ben smiled.  
Martin grinned softly, and his grin turned into a soft smile.  
“We could begin with the first one.” Martin smiled gently. Ben nodded with a smile, when the door bell rang. “I invited you for this date, and it’s your birthday date, so I’m paying. You can take care of Dr. No.” Martin winked, and stood up.

Ben looked after him and smiled. He stood up as well and walked to the television, while Martin opened the door and waited.  
Phil, one of the delivery men, looked confused when he came upstairs and not Ben but Martin stood in the door frame.  
“Evening.” Phil said; he looked confused and surprised – where was Ben, and why was Martin Freeman in his flat?  
Martin smiled.  
“Hello. You look confused. I’m not a criminal, Ben’s justing taking care of the telly.” Martin smiled as he knew, Ben knew all of the employees of Marcello’s restaurant quite well.  
“Haven’t expected someone else here. Sometimes Ben orders two meals to have something for the next day.” Phil grinned.  
“Are you sure, that he eats it the next day? Maybe he’s just a greedy pig and eats it the same day.” Martin grinned.   
Phil laughed.  
“Possible.”

Ben came to the door, after hearing the young loud laugh.  
Martin turned his head around with a grin.   
“What are you two laughing at?” Ben smiled, and looked at Phil. “Hey Phil.”  
“Hey Ben.” Phil grinned, and ignored his question. He handed him the pizza box, the pasta box, two salads and another box with pizza buns and dressing.   
Ben bowed his head and looked to Martin again.   
“I take care of the food.” He smiled softly, and from the kitchen he yelled: “Bye Phil.”  
“Bye!” Phil yelled back, looked at Martin again an handed him the bill.   
Martin paid for the dinner.  
“Keep the change.” He smiled.   
“Thank you!” Phil thanked him, and took the big box. He smiled again. “Next time I will ask you for a picture, I don’t want to disturb you two right now.”  
“We will do that next time.“ Martin smiled.   
“Great. Okay, then have a nice evening and enjoy the meal.” Phil smiled.  
“Thanks. A great evening for you as well.” Martin smiled.  
Phil raised the hand and walked downstairs.

Martin closed the door, putting the wallet onto Ben’s dresser.  
He walked to Ben into the living area.  
The food was already on the coffee table, two glasses were filled with red wine, the other two were filled with water, and Dr. No was also ready to entertain them.  
Martin smiled to Ben and sat down next to him.  
“Thanks, Martin.”  
“You’re welcome, Ben.” Martin smiled. “Let’s start our movie night.”  
Ben smiled, and pressed play.

Martin leaned back comfortably with the pizza box on his lap.   
Ben was sitting next to him, and he leaned back as well – comfortably and with his pasta box in front of him.  
While they were eating, they were watching ‘Dr. No’.  
Martin felt pretty comfortable and cosy. It was great to be with Ben; he really enjoyed the date, the movie night, the food and talking with him; and he pretty enjoyed Ben’s voice and his smile.  
He hadn’t felt this comfortable and cosy in a long time – in fact, he had the feeling he hadn’t felt like this before. This with Ben was special – and in a way it hurt, that they had lost 21 years – it could be so much more right now. 

Ben turned his head to Martin, who was enjoying his pizza. He had raved about the pizza a few times – he almost seemed to be in love with this pizza.  
Ben smiled and grinned softly.  
“Do you think, you could let go off the pizza for a moment. If you want, you could try the pasta… ” Ben offered.  
Martin looked to him and bowed his head. He had wanted to grab the next slice of pizza.   
He smiled to Ben and looked down to his pasta, slipped closer – his upper shoulder was leaning against Ben’s upper arm. He pointed with his finger to something that was in the pasta, and didn’t look like it would be something, that vegetarians eat.  
“What’s that?” Martin asked.  
“It’s just fish - tilapia. So you can eat it. I wouldn’t have offered you something with meat in it.” Ben smiled “I barely eat meat myself.”  
Martin looked up and smiled.  
“I would love to try it,… would you feed me?” Martin asked softly, and with a racing heart.

Ben smiled and nodded with a racing heart and a tingling stomach.   
“I would do that.” Ben beamed. He picked up pasta, vegetables and a piece of fish. “Open your mouth.” Ben said softly.   
Martin looked at him with sparkling eyes. He opened his mouth and he closed his eyes.  
Ben he leaned in, blew on the food and then he fed Martin with it.  
Martin closed his lips around the fork.   
He sighed. God, it was delicious.  
He chewed and swallowed it, and then he could feel Ben’s thumb, which was gently sliding across the right corner of his lips.   
“There was a bit of sauce.” Ben mumbled. What a big lie.   
Martin smiled with his stomach full of butterflies. He opened his eyes, looked into Ben’s, let his gaze wander to his thumb – his clean thumb. He looked to Ben again.  
“You’re a magician; your thumb is clean and my lip wasn’t.” Martin smiled with a wink, and his stomach tingled even more.  
Ben bit his lip with flushed cheeks.

Martin winked again.  
“David Copperfield?” Martin asked.  
“Yeah,… yeah, I’m David Copperfield.”  
Martin smiled and took a slice of the pizza.  
“Probably, you know how it tastes, but do you want to try it?” Martin asked softly.  
“If you feed me.” Ben murmured, still with flushed cheeks.  
“I will. Just close your eyes and open your mouth.” Martin said warmly.  
Ben closed his sparkling eyes and opened his mouth.  
Martin leaned in, fed him with a bit of his tuna pizza. And after Ben had swallowed, Martins thumb tenderly ran across the left corner of Ben’s lips.  
“Tomato sauce.” Martin stated with a smile.  
Ben opened his eyes slowly. His stomach was tingling, his heart almost freaked out. He looked to Martin and to his thumb, covered with a bit of tomato sauce.  
“Not David Copperfield.” Martin smiled.

Ben bowed his head, looked at Martin with sparkling eyes and a soft smile. He grabbed Martin’s wrist, leaned in a bit, and kissed the tomato sauce off of Martin’s thumb.  
His cheeks flushed again, and Martin’s cheeks flushed as well.  
Martin swallowed; Jesus, he hadn’t expected anything like that. His heart and butterflies freaked out completely. He blinked a few times, he had stopped breathing.  
“It belonged to my piece of pizza.” Ben stated bravely.  
Martin cleared his throat.  
“It did.” He blinked again, smiled shyly. This man was able to destroy his flirty and charming personality with a light touch of his lips against his thumb. 

Martin licked his lips.  
Ben bit his lips. He was too cowardly, too shy again – instead of going any further, he asked a question.  
“Did,… did you like the pasta?”  
“I did.” Martin mumbled. “It was very delicious.”  
“We can change, if you can let go off the pizza, you’re in love with.” Ben smiled softly and shyly.  
“Oh, I think, I would like that.” Martin smiled.

They exchanged their food.  
Martin ate the rest of Ben’s pasta, and Benedict ate the rest of Martin’s pizza.   
And after that, they ate their salads with the pizza buns, they drank their wine, and they watched James Bond. 

During the second James Bond movie, they made popcorn.  
They were comfortably sitting close to each other. Their upper arms and hips and thighs touched softly.  
The bowl with the popcorn was standing on Martin’s right thigh and Ben’s left thigh.  
It was almost completely dark in the flat, just the light of the television and a small light, next to the sofa, lit up the living area.

Martin grabbed into the popcorn bowl.  
His heart began to race again, the stomach began to tingle again – he licked his lips again.  
He could feel Ben’s warm hand under his fingertips.  
He closed his eyes. He would love to feel his bare skin more often.  
“Sorry… ” Martin mumbled.  
“I don’t mind.” Ben mumbled, with the same racing heart and with the same tingling stomach – he bit his lips.  
“Me, neither.” Martin mumbled back.  
Ben let go the popcorn, as well as Martin, and for a brief moment, for a brief and very soft squeeze, they entwined their fingers with each other.

And then both hands were busy again with the popcorn and the wine, and their eyes with James Bond.

They enjoyed their date, even though, they both held back something, that the other would love to share.  
It was shortly after 2 o’clock when Ben and Martin said goodbye and good night to each other.  
And again, both of them were standing in the hallway of the house, with a wild racing heart, with a stomach full of pretty busy butterflies and with weak knees.  
They were hugging each other tightly; they were rubbing each others back; they were whispering soft words about the evening and thank you’s into each others ears – and if they both wouldn’t be too shy, then they would have shared a soft kiss. A kiss they both wanted so much. A kiss they just hold back, because they thought it was too fast. 

But because they both were cowards, and because they both had a silly thought in their head, they didn’t kiss.   
And so, Martin just raised his hand with a loving smile again, and went downstairs.  
At 2.21 am, Martin closed the door of the house.

At 2.21 am, Ben closed his the door to his flat.  
He couldn’t believe it; he had missed the change of a kiss again.

7 minutes passed by – and the doorbell rang.


	16. There's Something I've Forgotten

_**\- Sunday, July/24 – 2016, 2.28 am, London, Camden Town -** _

The bell rang. 

Benedict wrinkled his forehead.  
He put the empty wine glasses onto the coffee table again and walked through the living area to his door.  
He pressed the button of the interphone.  
“Yeah?” He asked with a confused voice.  
He could hear a warm and nasal voice; a familiar voice; a voice, he loved.  
“It’s me, again. I’ve forgotten something.”  
“Oh, Martin. Really? Wait, I let you in.” He said softly, and pressed the button to open the door.  
And then he opened the door of his flat. 

He waited for Martin, who walked up the stairs. He smiled a soft smile.  
“I’m sorry.” Martin said, when he stood in front of Benedict.  
“It’s okay. What do have you forgotten?” Ben asked with a gentle smile, happy to see Martin again, that quickly.  
Martin bowed his head.  
“I have forgotten to kiss you goodbye.” Martin said with a warm voice.

He cupped Ben’s face with his hands and stretched upwards; he stood on his tiptoes, and he laid his lips softly on Ben’s lips. He kissed him softly, with just a breathy kiss. His lips hovered above Benedict’s lips, and he softly kissed him again – softly and gently.  
And this time, Ben joined his kiss.   
Ben laid his hands on Martin’s back; he caressed upwards to his shoulder blades, over his nape and into his soft hair. His racing heart was back, his tingling stomach was back, his soft knees were back.   
Their lips moved gently and tenderly, they moved in harmony.  
Martin’s hand still cupped Ben’s face, and his thumbs caressed the sharp cheekbones. Martin could feel the pounding heart, that freaked out; he could feel his butterflies, and the warm feeling in every fibre of his body, and he could feel,that his knees were as soft as warm pudding.  
Their lips were warm, and a mixture of rough and soft. 

Martin stopped the kiss slowly, their noses nudged against each other.  
He looked up with sparkling eyes, and he met two beaming eyes, which were grey, almost silver.  
Martin swallowed and smiled, and he nudged their noses against each other again.  
Ben smiled gently, looked into the deep and warm and sparkling eyes of Martin.  
“Could you kiss me again? A kiss to say hello? And could you come in again, afterwards?” Ben asked.  
Martin beamed; he gave him a happy little kiss.   
“Hello.” Martin said happily.  
“Hello.” Ben beamed with a joyful voice.

Martin smiled widely, and pressed Ben into the flat.  
“It’s great to come back, when one has forgotten something.” Martin beamed, and closed the door with a kick.  
“I’m glad you’re back.” Ben beamed.  
“I’m glad to be back as well. I have wanted to do this after the cooking date.” Martin admitted with a soft smile.  
“Me too, but I thought it would be too early.” Ben muttered.  
“Hmh, me too. It’s stupid, we waited 21 years to do that. It’s not too early for kissing.” Martin smiled broadly.  
“Absolutely true. So, how about staying here over night?” Ben asked softly.  
Martin slipped out of his shoes, while he beamed into Ben’s sparkling eyes.

Ben pulled him into his arms, kissed his nose.  
“You’ve lied,… Sweetheart.” Ben mumbled.  
“When have I lied to you?” Martin muttered, with half closed eyes. He put his arms around Ben’s neck.  
“You told me, that you’re not tasting sweet and like candy. But that’s not true.” Ben smiled, and kissed Martins lips softly. “You taste like sweet popcorn.” He mumbled against Martins lips, who sighed. Ben kissed him again. “And you taste like vanilla ice cream with egg liqueur and chocolate drops.” They both smiled, and Ben gave him a third and gentle kiss on the lips. “Hmh, and you taste like milk chocolate.” Ben mumbled, nudged their noses, and Martin sighed again, when Ben kissed him for the forth time. “Hmh, and I can taste sweet red wine on your lips.”   
Martin shivered; his eyes flickered open slowly, he smiled up to Ben and licked his lips.  
“Come here, I want to taste you.” Martin’s eyes sparkled, his hand ran into Ben’s hair and pressed his head down.

Martin stretched up a bit, and captured Ben’s smiling lips.  
His lips tasted Ben’s lips softly and gently. His teeth nibbled softly. And his tongue licked across Ben’s lips tenderly, asked for entry – asked for a proper taste.  
Ben parted his lips, and he sighed and purred, when he felt Martin’s tongue.  
Martin’s hand tugged at Ben’s hair, whose hands caressed his back.  
They could taste a bit of the pizza, pasta and the fish; but they could taste a lot of the sweet red wine, of the chocolate, of the ice cream with the egg liqueur and the chocolate drops, and of the sweet popcorn.  
Their tongues danced with each other – they danced a soft and slow rhythm, a tender rhythm with no hurry.  
They got to know each other, and found their harmony – with beating hearts and tingling stomachs.

When they stopped their kiss, they smiled at each other.  
“I stop cleaning up right now. Am I allowed to take you to bed, instead?” Ben asked with a beating heart.  
“You are.” Martin smiled widely, and laid his hand into Benedict’s hand.  
Ben beamed, he squeezed Martin’s hand.  
And then he took him to his bedroom.

Ben led him to the bed; he smiled down and ran his hand through Martin’s hair.  
And Martin smiled up, with a happy and cosy smile. He felt absolutely comfortable.  
They locked eyes with each other, and it was clear, that they both enjoyed the nearness, that they both enjoyed the kisses – and that it wasn’t necessary to have sex right now. 

They stepped back a little bit, and they both slipped silently out of their jeans and socks.

Ben switched on the bedside lamp and the big light off.  
He took Martin’s hand, who was also just wearing his polo-shirt and the boxer briefs. He pulled him slowly into the bed, with the soft mattress and the fluffy blanket.  
Martin smiled, and he slid under the blanket. He laid the head onto the same pillow as Ben; he was so close that their noses rubbed against each other.  
They both beamed.  
Ben laid his hand under the blanket on Martin’s hip, his fingertip crawled the black fabric of the boxer briefs. Martin could feel the goose bumps, and he closed his eyes with a purr. He laid his own hand on Benedict's back; his fingertips crawled Ben’s nape and his hairline – he could feel the goose bumps under his fingertips.

Their legs, their crotches, their bellies, their chests and their noses touched each other. They could feel the fast heartbeat of the other one, and they could feel the bare and warm skin of their legs.  
“God, it’s lovely.” Martin purred with a low voice.  
“Let’s bet, when I will faint. I bet: in a minute.” Ben sighed, with his fast beating heart.  
“You will faint after my next kiss.” Martin said charmingly.  
He kissed Ben with a breathtaking kiss.

But even so the kiss was absolutely breathtaking, they stopped the kiss – happy chuckles and giggles and laughs filled the bedroom.


	17. The First Time Of The Rest Of Our Lifetime

_**\- Sunday, July/24 – 2016, London, 3.23 am, Camden Town, Ben’s flat, bedroom -** _

The bedside lamp still lit up the bedroom with a cosy and pleasant light.  
The two men, which were lying in bed didn’t speak, the only sounds one could hear were coming from the sheets, which rustled – and sometimes one could hear a smacking noise, or a purr, a sigh, a moan.   
Ben and Martin were still busy with kissing.  
Their tongues danced with each other and they explored each other – each kiss was tenderly and slowly.

Ben could feel his goose bumps all over his body; he could feel the warm feeling in his body, and he could feel his racing heart and his nice tingling stomach.   
Jesus, Martin was an awesome good kisser; Ben thought, while Martin was kissing him tenderly, with his warm and soft lips.   
He could feel Martin’s hand, which was playing with his hair strands; he could feel his soft caresses down his neck after playing with the strands of his hair; he could feel his fingertips, which were wandering down his spine; and he could feel, that the hand disappeared under his T-shirt.  
He shivered massively, when he felt Martin’s warm hand on his bare skin under the T-Shirt.  
Martin captured Ben’s lips between his teeth, and let them slid free.  
They opened their eyes.

Martin bowed his head with red swollen lips.  
He couldn’t get enough, Ben was tasting too good, and he was was feeling too good.  
“Sorry. Too much right now?” Martin asked with a whisper against Ben’s lips, and he wanted to take away his hand.  
“God, no,… too good. Don’t take your hands off of me. Don’t apologise, keep going, Martin, please,… it’s great. It feels good.” Ben smiled.   
Martin smiled to him.  
“I’m not able to take my hands or lips off of you, you’re feeling too good under my lips and hands.” Martin purred with a soft voice. “May I undress you?” Martin asked gently.  
Ben shivered from Martin’s words.  
“If I’m allowed to undress you as well.” Ben smiled with sparkling eyes.  
“Hmh, I hope you will do that.” Martin smiled; he bent down and kissed Ben’s cheek, while he pushed the T-Shirt further upwards.

Ben smiled – of course he would do that; there was no better thing on earth than Martin naked in his bed.  
He sat up a bit and helped Martin with his T-Shirt. It sailed onto the mattress.   
Martin reached out a hand, caressed across Ben’s upper body; he caressed across the shoulders, the arms, and hands; he caressed across the collarbone, the chest and chest hair, across the flat stomach.   
Ben closed his eyes. He purred and sighed, while Martin was caressing him softly.  
“God, are you always that softly and gently and all that?”  
“Mostly.” Martin smiled lovingly. “Problem?”  
Ben shivered pleasantly.  
“Yes, my heart will freak out.”  
Martin laughed warmly.  
“It’s not a problem; I will die during kissing you, because I’m not able to stop kissing you.”  
Ben opened his eyes and looked down to Martin.  
They both giggled.

Ben bent down and suppressed Martin’s giggle with a tender kiss.  
Martin stopped his giggle immediately, and he purred and sighed into the kiss. His fingernails scratched across Ben’s back, while Ben shoved his T-shirt slightly upwards.  
Ben purred as well, nibbled and sucked at Martin’s lips, until he needed to let them go, because of the T-shirt, which was shoved upwards.  
He freed Martin’s lips, who raised his arms; Ben shoved the T-shirt over Martin’s arms and head – he threw it away.   
He gave Martin a soft kiss, before he sat up again. 

Martin smiled up, while Ben smiled down to him.   
Ben’s forefinger caressed across Martins soft skin. He felt Martin’s fast beating heart.   
Martin closed his eyes, enjoyed Ben’s forefinger, which caressed him softly and tenderly.   
“Hmmh, that’s nice.” Martin purred.  
Ben smiled down, and eyed Martin’s naked upper body.  
Marvelous.  
Just gorgeous.  
He nudged Martin’s little tummy with his forefinger several times.  
Awesome.  
Already obsessed with this little tummy.

Martin giggled softly.  
“Is the Physical Education teacher judging me and my little tummy?”  
“Not really, he’s obsessed with it. But anyway, I think a bit of physical activity could do you good – and because you are a lucky one, a Physical Education teacher is in bed with you right now.” Ben said flirtingly.   
He had thought that just the kisses would be fine today, enough for today – but kissing with Martin was very hot, even though they just kissed tenderly and gently and slowly. He needed more, he needed his fantasies to come true – right now.  
He was sure, Martin was a bloody awesome lover – he already was a bloody awesome kisser, caresser and cuddler.   
Martin giggled again; he opened his eyes, which were dilated and sparkled like the black night.  
“You didn’t tell me, that you’re teaching Biology as well.” Martin winked.  
“Oh, I’m not. I’m sure you know the whole male body very well, and I’m quite sure, that you know very well how to use your… ” Ben raised an eyebrow; his hand caressed breathily across the fabric of the boxer briefs Martin was wearing – across the huge bulge.  
Martin moaned with pure relish.  
“Yeah,… yeah, I know that.” Martin mumbled with a moaning voice – Benedict had caressed across the bulge again.  
“So, I will just teach the physical side, and well, you know, the students have to do the work.” Ben breathed with a hoarse and deep voice.  
“God, I’m massively turned on by that.” Martin purred. “I would love to do the work. What do you want me to do, Mr. Cumberbatch.” Martin said hoarsely, and winked.  
Ben smiled softly.  
“Show me how much you know the male body.” Ben purred with his dark voice.

Martin looked at him; he grabbed Ben’s shoulders and pressed him down onto the mattress, onto his back, he hovered above him.  
“Jesus, it’s good that you haven’t been my teacher. I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate. How are your students able to concentrate, when there is sitting such a hot and gorgeous man in front of them, with such a fucking deep and dark and sexy voice?” Martin moaned, and his fingers slipped into Ben’s boxer briefs, shoved them slowly downwards.  
Ben swallowed.  
“Don’t know,… I couldn’t concentrate as well, when you would sit in my class – I couldn’t teach properly, whether you would sit there as the hot and sexy man you’re now, or as the cute and fluffy young man you were back then.”  
Martin smiled, and pushed the shorts down; Ben slipped out of it.  
“Great, that we are both old enough, so that you can teach me this kind of physical education right here, in your bed, naked, aroused.” He bent down, and kissed Ben’s neck.  
“Ohhh, very great.” Ben moaned.

He laid himself in Martin’s hands. He enjoyed his lips, which were kissing and sucking his neck, and he was enjoying the warm breath of Martin, and all the other small body parts he could feel – like his hair, his ear, his cheek, his hands, a bit of his arms and chest and legs, and oh, this bulge – this huge and wet bulge.  
Ben moaned; his hands stroked across Martins back, across his shoulders, across his neck into his hair, which made Martin kiss and suck even more. Ben’s hands tugged at Martin’s hair, when he began to lick across his ear.

They both moaned and purred and sighed and shivered, while Martin was busy with Ben’s upper body. Benedict moaned, because of Martin’s licking and kissing and sucking and biting; and Martin was moaning, because of Ben’s moaning, and the tugging at his hair, and the grabbing of his butt, and he was moaning even louder, when Ben shoved his boxer shorts down, and let his hand caress his throbbing and leaking erection.  
He was really horny right now – he hadn’t had sex with someone else in quite some time; he wasn’t someone for one night stands, and he had broken up with his last girlfriend during the shooting of An Unexpected Journey, or to be precise, during he had been in the UK in between, for shooting Sherlock Season 2 – 2011.  
And now he was lying in bed with such a hot guy, with the hot stranger, the gorgeous jogger and the cute boy – with the guy he had missed in his life 21 years.

They enjoyed their foreplay massively.  
They enjoyed all their kisses and caresses, all the explorations with hands and lips and teeth and tongues; they enjoyed it on every body part, and they moaned very loudly when they touched their twitching erections.

Ben grabbed the lube and a condom out of the bedside drawer. He was someone for one night stands, sometimes, and they didn’t know anything about the other ones sex lives - just precaution for this first time.  
Martin breathed a last kiss on Ben’s chest. He smiled up to him and took the bottle with lube.   
Ben smiled back.  
Both their eyes sparkled with arousal and lust and tenderness.

Martin opened the bottle, and a few moments later, when the bottle lay next to Ben again, one could hear his loud moan. The legs were spread and angled, his hands in Martins hair.  
“Jesus! That’s awesome.” Ben moaned, while Martin was fingering him gently.   
Martin smiled, kissed Ben’s stomach and rubbed across his prostate.  
Ben arched his back, and pressed the head in the pillow; his eyes were closed, the mouth hung open.  
He couldn’t resist when a second finger rubbed across his puckering hole and slid into it – he needed to join Martin’s perfect pace.   
“Oh God, that’s so good. Hmm, Martin.” He purred, and licked his lips.   
Martin enjoyed that Ben was melting away, that he reacted this much to his soft touches and caresses and rubs. And he enjoyed Ben’s scratching fingernails on his back and nape, which made him moan into Ben’s stomach. His fingers stretched Ben skilled and softly.  
“Hmmh, Ben.” Martin purred.  
“Please, Martin. Please, I need you, not just your skilled fingers.” Ben begged with his dark and aroused voice.  
Martin rubbed his nose across Ben’s belly; his fingers disappeared, which made Ben moan in disappointment.  
Martin sat up and smiled down. He took the condom, unwrapped the little package, and rolled it over his throbbing and leaking cock. He moaned in pleasure, and licked his lips. Ben would feel marvelous around his cock.  
Ben bit his lips; he could hardly wait to have sex with this amazing man.  
Martin took the bottle of lube again and lubcricated his cock with closed eyes and a moaning ‘Benedict’ on his lips.  
Ben shivered, and as soon as Martin bent down again, he wrapped his legs around the small body of Martin.  
Martin slid into Ben’s wet and hot hole.

They both moaned in pleasure.

Ben pressed Martin closer with his legs, his hands ran into Martins hair, and pulled him down softly.   
Their lips found each other again, and they bit into each other’s lips when Martin thrusted away tenderly.  
Ben joined his tender rhythm – he already could feel it, Martin would be able to make him orgasm untouched.

It was hard for both of them to decide where to put their hands – they wanted to touch each other everywhere. It was hard to decide, whether they should kiss or moan – they needed to stop their french kisses, their biting, the licks and sucks repeatedly – just because of long enjoyable moans. 

Martin bit Ben’s lip.  
“Fuck! Fuck, Ben. You’re feeling amazing.” He mumbled against Ben’s lips; one hand tugged at Ben’s auburn hair, the other one supported his body next to Ben.  
His hips moved tenderly but intense, he hit Ben’s prostate with a teasing rub every now and then.  
Ben was melting away.   
“Oh, Martinmartin,… Jesus, Martin.” Ben moaned and purred. He enjoyed it really much when Martin’s cock rubbed across his prostate. “God, I would love to do that the whole night.”  
“I’m happy when I’m able to hold myself back the next two minutes.” Martin moaned. “But I’m here the whole night for a lot of repeats. Fuck!” Martin gasped and panted.

Ben smiled with open and lustful eyes, and he captured Martin’s lips for a new breathtaking kiss.

After a few moments Ben stopped the kiss.  
“Oh God, Martin, please, a bit faster, just a bit,… or a bit more, or just get rid of your lovely self-control.” Ben begged and pleaded with his dark voice.  
“Ohh, with pleasure.” Martin moaned against Ben’s lips.  
And for the next few moments, Ben grabbed Martins arse, and they joined a rough and fast pace.

A rough and fast and very passionate rhythm without any self-control or holding back, just pure lust and need – until they both reached their climax loudly.  
“Fuckfuckfuck. Benedict!”  
“Martin! Oh yes. Martin!”  
Slowly, tenderly and in a lovemaking way, Martin led Ben through their orgams.

Ben and Martin were sweating, gasping and panting, but they couldn’t stop kissing.  
They kissed each other with small gasping kisses; Benedict caressed Martins back, while Martin was playing with the strands of Benedict’s hair.  
Little sloppy and wet kisses made smacking noises.  
And after a while they began to giggle.   
Martin wanted to get rid of the condom, but Ben involved him over and over again in these sloppy and wet kisses.  
They both chuckled, when Martin could free himself a bit.  
He took the used condom, leaned a bit out of bed and threw it in the small bin next to the bedside drawer; while Ben was holding his arm. And as soon as he had dropped the condom into the bin, Ben pulled him back. He had cleaned himself in the meanwhile with his own T-shirt.

He pulled Martin gently in his arms.  
“This here, right now, or whatever will happen during the rest of the night,… isn’t just for that night, isn’t it? I haven’t misinterpreted all these soft looks and touches and words of you, right? This here is much more than this one night… ” Ben mumbled.  
“I hope so. For me it is. For me it is much more than just this one night.” Martin murmured, and snuggled into Ben’s arms. He looked into his eyes.  
Ben’s eyes sparkled down.  
Martin’s eyes beamed up; he kissed Ben’s chin.  
“It could be a try,… a try to figure out if… if the perfect one was really missing 21 years.” Martin muttered with a smile.

“I would really like that. I would like to start a try with this cute young man, with his fluffy dark blonde hair, his button nose, and his white T-shirt and his light blue jeans.” Ben beamed.   
Martin beamed, and his heart pounded – again, he was just the young man from the stage door, it was a great feeling, just to be a man called Martin, and nevertheless very special and important to Ben.  
“That’s great, because I would love to try it with this cute and adorable young man from the stage door, with his auburn curly hair, and his remarkable cheekbones, and his grey Pink Floyd T-shirt and his dark jeans.” Martin smiled lovingly and winked.

Ben smiled widely, and his heart raced in a faster rhythm – this man really could remember that night that well, too.  
He wrapped his arms around a happily smiling Martin.


	18. This Time It Wasn't A Dream

_**\- Sunday, July/24 – 2016, 9.08 am, London, Camden Town, Benedict's flat, bedroom -** _

Heavy rain was splashing against the windows in Benedict’s bedroom. The sky was full of dark grey clouds, one couldn’t see the sun, one couldn’t see a bit of bright cloudless sky.  
It was raining heavily, and Martin had woken up from the loud sounds of the drumming rain.   
And since Martin had woken up a few minutes ago, he was watching Ben.  
Martin smiled widely – the night had been awesome, at first he had thought that cuddling and kissing Ben would be enough for this night, but then they had started to go further, much further – and despite of a few cuddling sessions, they had explored each other the whole night. They have had amazing sex, more than once – they have had sex the whole night, and every time had been fantastic and satisfying and full of passion and love. 

They had fallen asleep probably just one hour ago.  
Martin smiled widely – god he felt bloody amazing; not just because he had had a lot of fucking good sex this night, he felt really good because of Ben, because of that first kiss, because of their try, to make this work after a few weeks of knowing each other.  
Martin ran his hand trough his sex tousled hair, and rubbed the hand across his face, across his sleepy eyes. He yawned and looked to the sleeping Ben again.

Ben was lying next to him, on his side, as well as Martin. His hair was a mess – and it was Martin’s fault, he had tugged and pulled at it during the sex, and he had played with the strands during their cuddling and kissing sessions. One arm laid above the blanket, and Martin was also able to see his bare chest; the other arm laid under his head.   
And the lips, the lips were still a bit swollen and a bit red.  
They had kissed each other over and over again – and for Martin it had been an almost impossible thing to keep his lips off of Ben’s. That man was able to kiss so fucking good, that Martin hadn’t wanted to lose too much time without tasting these great lips.

Martin rubbed his nose, but he didn’t take his eyes off Ben.   
He just smiled deeply in love, and enjoyed his fast racing heart, his tingling stomach, and the warm feeling in his whole body.   
This evening, he needed to drive back to Cardiff, and beforehand to his own flat to fetch up his stuff – but until this evening, he could just lie here and watch his new boyfriend while he was asleep. He could watch him the whole day doing nothing, and he would still be amazed by this incredible beautiful man.

He yawned again, and thought about closing his eyes again, when he saw that Ben was moving a bit.  
Ben hummed softly, and Martin could hardly hear it, because of the heavy drumming rain.   
Ben pressed his face into the pillow; he hummed again. Probably he wasn’t happy about the loud rain.  
Martin smiled lovingly.  
Ben laid his arm back under the blanket, and shortly after that, his hand searched for Martin. When the fingers felt Martin’s little tummy, and the goose bumps, which spread immediately across Martin’s body, he opened an eye. He looked with one sleepy and light blue eye to Martin, and across his face flickered a happy smile.  
As sleepy as he was, Martin’s presence and his smile activated his speaking area.  
“This time it wasn’t a dream.” He murmured softly.

Martin smiled, and eyed Ben’s face.  
“Have you dreamed about me?” Martin asked.  
“Hmh, after our cooking date,… well that was the last time I dreamed about you,… I have dreamed very often about you.” Ben admitted sleepily.  
“Oh, what dreams,… naughty dreams, or lovely and cute dreams?” Martin wobbled with his eyebrows.  
“Lovely and cute dreams,… and a lot of really, really naughty dreams – I mean really naughty, if I would close my eyes and think about these dreams, I would blush, my whole body would blush,… I would look like a lobster.”  
Martin needed to chuckle and laugh with his sleepy and warm voice.  
“God, you’re adorable, Ben.” Martin grinned lovingly.   
Ben rubbed his eyes and eyed Martin afterwards – his warm and hearty laugh had been great, now he felt warm and cozy again.

Martin grinned, and nudged Ben’s nose with his forefinger.  
“What have I done in your last dream?”  
Ben smiled, and put his hand back, back under the blanket, and he began to crawl Martin’s little tummy.  
“After our cooking date, I dreamed about the date,… but after that date we kissed, and we went to bed and we had great sex, and we cuddled, and we fall asleep together,… and then I woke up. And then it got a bit weird. Of course you weren’t lying next to me after I woke up, but I thought, you would be on the loo or in the kitchen, to drink something. God, I was convinced you’re my boyfriend, I was fucking happy for exactly ten minutes, then I read your text message - and realised that you’re not my boyfriend. Wasn’t a great feeling.” Ben murmured sleepily, and still crawled Martin’s tummy, who had listened.  
Martin shivered; the crawling felt good.  
“Well, beautiful man, this time it isn’t a dream, like you already said,… so I will stay with you in bed, and you don’t have to be sad. This time, your boyfriend is lying next to you, after a really lovely date, a great first kiss, and an amazing night.” Martin smiled with sparkling eyes.  
Ben beamed lovingly, he pinched Martin’s little tummy softly.  
“Ouuch. Hey, why are you pinching me?” Martin asked, and nudged Ben’s shoulder with his hand.  
“Just wanted to make sure, that this really isn’t a dream.” Ben grinned.  
“Then you need to pinch your tummy!”  
“Noooo, I’m not stupid, that hurts.” Ben grinned.  
Martin nudged his shoulder again, this time he grinned as well.

Ben smirked, slipped closer and wrapped his arm around Martin.   
He looked down to Martin’s lips, bent forward and kissed these warm and soft lips gently.  
Martin closed his eyes and sighed. He wrapped his arm around Ben as well, and pulled him closer. He returned Ben’s kiss, and shoved a leg between Benedict’s.  
It was just a small and loving good morning kiss.  
“Morning.” Ben mumbled against Martin’s lips, which were still red and swollen.   
“Hmh, morning.” Martin mumbled between two kisses, he shared with Ben.  
Ben sighed.  
“We have kissed so much during the night and this morning, that our lips are still swollen.”  
“Yeah, I can see and feel it. But this won’t stop me from kissing you.” Martin smiled, and kissed Ben again – with a loving and tender kiss.  
“Your make-up artist needs to cool down your lips tomorrow.” Ben smirked.  
“Oh, they will probably regenerate over night, but maybe she will have a lot to do with the love-bites you gave me during the night and during this morning. Depends on what I need to wear tomorrow.” Martin chuckled.   
“I can make more love bites, if she needs more to do.” Ben chuckled.   
They both giggled.

Martin kissed Ben’s nose.  
“It’s unfair, that you don’t need to go to school, so nobody will see the love bites, I have given you.” He grinned.  
“It’s not exactly correct.” Ben grinned. “There’s a project in the first two vacation weeks. But I’m just Thursday and Friday at school, so probably your love bites are gone until Thursday. If not, a few students will see them.” Ben chuckled.  
“They will be gone until Thursday. What a shame.” Martin grinned. “And when the school will begin in September, I will be in Australia. What a pity.” He grinned.  
Ben laughed softly.  
“Then you need to give me such big love bites before you are off to Australia, that they will last until school begins again.” Ben grinned.  
Martin laughed, but he looked serious again.  
“I will try it.” He said seriously.  
It wasn’t possible to stay serious, Ben burst out into laughter, and so did Martin.   
“You’re hilariously funny, Martin.” Ben laughed heartily; he loved Martin’s humour.  
Martin grinned, and kissed Ben’s cheek.  
They both calmed down slowly.

After a few minutes of silence, Martin slipped again a bit closer. He kissed Ben’s collarbone, and snuggled into Ben’s arms.  
“I’m sorry, that I need to leave shortly after Sherlock is done.” Martin murmured.  
Ben hugged him and pressed the small sleepy warm and naked body against his own tall sleepy warm and naked body.  
“You’ve a few things to do before Christmas, right? First Australia, and then two other projects in the UK.” Ben mumbled into Martin’s hair.  
“Hmm, right. I’m in Australia until the end of October, and then two projects are waiting here for me, before Christmas. I’m sorry, Ben. I’m sorry, that I am that busy.” He kissed Ben’s collarbone again.

Ben kissed Martin’s hair, who snuggled closer and breathed in his scent.  
“It’s fine, Martin. Okay,… it’s not. Of course, I would love to have you here. But it’s your job, Martin. You don’t have to be sorry. There are so many ways to stay in contact, to see each other - even though it’s without feeling each other for real. And when you’re back, then we can see each other a bit more often, at least when you have free evenings or free weekends. It’s okay, Martin, as much as I would love to have you here, as much I am proud of what you do, as much I love to watch the things you do, and as much I am amazed how talented you are. It’s not about the quantity of time one shares with each other – it’s the quality. And even just a few hours can be more fantastic if one uses it well, as a whole week, which one uses really bad.” Ben murmured softly.   
Martin snuggled closer.  
“Jesus, you’re fucking lovely and marvellous.” Martin muttered against Ben’s collar bone. “Thank you for your compliments, and your support, and especially your understanding.” He hugged him softly, pressed him closer.  
“Nothing you need to thank me for. It goes without saying. Maybe not for everyone, but for me, sweetheart.” He rubbed gently across Martin’s bare back and the goose bumps.  
Martin smiled.  
“As I said, you’re fucking lovely, sugarnut.” Martin smiled widely against Ben’s collarbone.

Silence again.  
At least silence between them.  
The rain was still drumming against the windows.

Martin yawned and pulled the blanket more over him and Ben. He cuddled with Ben under the blanket, and he enjoyed his warm and naked body pretty much.   
Ben kissed Martin’s hair again.  
“How long can you stay today?” Ben muttered sleepily.  
“Hmm, maybe 6 or 7 pm. I need to drive back to Notting Hill to fetch up my things, and then I need to drive to Cardiff, or well, Amanda will drive, I’m appointed with her at 8 o’clock. My things are packed, so I think I’m able to stay until 7 pm, it’s just 20 minutes to Notting Hill. Do you want me to stay here until I really have to leave?” Martin asked.  
Ben smiled; he nodded and buried his nose into Martin’s almost grey hair.  
“I would love that. If you want to stay that long.”  
“I would love to stay much longer.” Martin said softly. “I’m not sure, if I want to stand up now.” Martin murmured.  
“It’s the same with me.” Ben yawned. “I can hardly keep my eyes open.”  
“We could take a nap.” Martin suggested and kissed Ben’s shoulder lovingly.  
“Sounds great, and after that a shower?” Ben asked, and drew little circles on Martin’s naked and warm back.  
“Hmm, and after our shower, a lovely lunch.” Martin smiled, and purred.  
“Great, and then we could cuddle on the couch.” Ben murmured, and shivered a bit, because of Martin’s warm breath on his warm and bare skin.  
“With a nap.” Martin yawned.  
“And when we are awake again, a lot of kissing.” Ben smiled.

They both yawned.  
Martin slipped back a little bit. He looked up to Ben, with small and sleepy eyes.  
“Oh yeah the kissing. I need a kiss before I fall asleep again.” Martin smiled.  
“Every time I saw a movie with you, where you kissed a woman, I totally wished I would be her. Now I knew, how bloody good you can kiss – if I would have known that back then, I would have been really jealous.” Ben smiled with a yawn.  
Martin smiled with a soft smirk.  
“Will you be jealous when I kiss someone else in front of the camera again?”  
“No, now I knew that I’m the lucky person who can enjoy your real and private kisses.” Ben’s eyes sparkled.  
Martin smiled softly.  
“Then enjoy my kiss, before I fall asleep.” Martin winked.  
“I will.” Ben smiled widely.

Martin laid his lips on Ben’s; he kissed him sleepily, softly, slowly, lovingly.   
They both sighed.  
Their lips moved with each other in harmony, as well as their tongues danced with each other in harmony.

After their sleepy kiss, Martin slumped into Ben’s arms; he turned around, pulled Ben’s arm with him, and snuggled into the hug, snuggled his back against Ben’s chest and stomach, and he pressed Ben’s arm and hand against his chest.   
He closed his eyes, and smiled happily.  
Ben smiled, and snuggled his face into Martin’s hair.  
“You’re like a stuffed animal.” Ben murmured.  
“Stuffed animal? Why?” Martin asked, almost asleep.  
“Hmh, small body, fluffy body, very cute and cuddly.” Ben smiled happily.  
“Hmh, I would love to be your stuffed animal. Please cuddle me.” Martin smiled half asleep.  
“With the biggest pleasure and relish.” Ben mumbled smilingly into Martin’s hair.  
Martin smiled, when Ben switched their hand position. Ben took Martin’s hand, and hold him tightly and safely in his arms. 

And when they woke up again, they shared a shower, lunch, a cuddling and napping session on Ben’s sofa, and a lot of kisses and caresses.


	19. A Meaningful Gesture

_**\- Friday, July/29 – 2016, 1 pm, London, South Hampstead High School -** _

During the week Martin had been in Cardiff.   
On Sunday, when he had driven back to Wales with Amanda, they had talked about Ben. To be precise, Martin wouldn’t have mentioned it, but Amanda had asked him whether he had seen the jogger again or not. And so they had talked the whole ride about Benedict.   
Martin had told her, that he had met him on the day, when he had been very grumpy after his break; he had told her, that they had met in a restaurant – and that they had talked about that night 21 years ago, while they had enjoyed a nice breakfast a few hours later.

But it hadn’t been enough for Amanda. Of course not. Amanda was a woman, and as all women totally curious about things like cute romantic stories – and after all, she was Amanda, and Amanda was always as curious as all the women in the world together.   
And so, she hadn’t stopped asking about Ben.   
After a while Martin had sighed, and had told her everything willingly – not everything; he hadn’t said that they had shared sex and blowjobs and handjobs last night; he had just said, that they had slept with each other, but not that they had done it for the rest of the night and in the morning. And it seemed to be enough for Amanda, probably, she knew that they had done much more anyway.

Amanda had been really happy for Martin, she had been almost as excited as Martin himself.   
And Martin was fucking excited and happy.   
During the whole week he had beamed like a teenager, who was madly in love with his first big love. He had been in a fucking good mood, and not even the stressful set, all the things which hadn’t worked out during work, all the long breaks, all the long days at work, hadn’t made him grumpy - hadn’t bothered his good mood.  
He was really happy to have started this relationship with Ben.   
This man was incredibly kind and lovely and polite – a true gentleman and a very smart man. And he looked very handsome and beautiful, with his auburn hair, his changing eyecolour, his cheekbones, his remarkable shaped lips, and his slender and tall body.   
When he thought about it, he almost didn’t deserve such a gorgeous man.

They hadn’t seen each other during the week, at least not properly, just via Skype and FaceTime. Even though Martin had been busy most of the time, he had used quiet moments throughout the day to spend with Ben – no matter if it was Skype, FaceTime, just a text or a phone call.   
And he had looked forward the whole week to see him again today.

Today he had had a day off – or at least, he hadn’t needed to be on set, and so he had travelled home by train last night to attend his appointment in London today.

Benedict had enjoyed his first proper week of the summer vacation with mostly doing nothing. But if one looked closely, he had done a few things. He had been out with some friends; he had been in the park and had read the book, Martin had bought him for his birthday; he had been shopping; he had been in the theatre and in the cinema.  
And he had been in Marcello’s restaurant – and of course Phil had told Marcello, that Martin Freeman had been in his flat. Marcello hadn’t let him get away on Monday – he had always loved to talk, but on Monday he had talked more than ever before. He had asked a lot of questions about Martin and him; he had talked like a babblemouth, like it would be the most interesting topic in the whole world since a very long time.   
Benedict had answered his questions immediately; he knew him quite well to know that he would annoy and bother him until he would have all the information he wanted to have. And as much as Marcello loved to talk, Ben knew, Marcello would never blurt out such an information. He could be as silent as a grave.

There was another person, who wasn’t able to be as silent as a grave, who was also a babblemouth, but one, who couldn’t remain resolutely silent – his mother.  
And so he hadn’t told his parents that he was in a relationship with Martin. He had told them the story, the story of the Playhouse Theatre and the stage door and Martin Freeman – and they had been quite impressed. And he had told them, that they had met in Marcello’s restaurant again, a few weeks ago. But he hadn’t told them about the dates, or that he was madly in love with this cute little fellow, and he hadn’t told them about the try to make this relationship work after a few weeks of knowing each other – and of course he hadn’t told them about that amazing first night with Martin.  
But his parents had begun to rave about Martin like they would have a relationship with him, or as if they wanted to tell him: ‘Please fall in love with him, we want to have him as our son-in-law and no other man is allowed to have this position in our family – so love him! Why isn’t he already our son-in-law? Love him!’.  
They had raved about him beforehand, but never that much; they had raved more about his skills as an actor and a bit about his personality – but in the foreground had stood his profession and his talent.   
This time they had raved about him, like they wanted to advertise their son to a stranger. And in this special case, Martin had been the son, and he had been the stranger.

Ben had remained silent. Maybe his mother the prattler would blurt it out without thinking in front of her friends, which were sometimes even bigger prattlers.  
And he didn’t know if Martin would like it that much.   
They hadn’t talked about the public thing on Sunday and during the week.  
And Ben didn’t know what Martin opinion was when it came to going public.   
And at the end of the day, it wasn’t really confirmed that Martin was bisexual – even though, Ben knew, that Martin didn’t give a fuck about it.  
And at the end of the day, their relationship was still fresh and new – and he didn’t know if Martin already wanted to go public with it.

It wasn’t really warm today, even though the sun was shining through the thick white clouds sometimes.  
Martin walked through streets of London; he had finished his interview.  
He wore dark jeans, a dark green sweater and a dark blue, almost black thin summer jacket.  
And he walked across the courtyard of the South Hampstead High School.

Martin opened the door and stood in the long and wide hallway. He looked around.  
And the two young ladies, which were strolling towards the exit to the courtyard were his victims.  
He stopped them, and smiled charmingly.  
“Hey, may I ask a question, before you leave?” He smiled, and shouldered his bag again.  
The girl with the reddish hair just looked at him with a stunned face – the mouth hung open, the eyes were big, and she said nothing.  
The girl with the short blonde hair, showed that she knew Martin – she beamed like mad, and she was able to speak.  
“Of course! You can ask as many questions as you like” She smiled with a huge smile.  
Martin grinned.  
“It’s not my job to ask questions, I just answer them.” He grinned charmingly. “I would love to know, where I can find Mr. Cumberbatch?”  
“Mr. Cumberbatch?” The short haired girl asked stunned.  
“Yeah, he’s working here, isn’t he?” Martin smiled.  
“Yeah, yeah. The cute one,… we saw him the whole day. He had looked after the art project yesterday and today.”  
“Yeah, I know, he told me.” Martin smiled.  
“Um, well. He’s still upstairs in one of the art rooms. Just this staircase here, and then it is the first door you will see on the left side. It’s the only door which stands open.” The blonde girl said, the other one still hadn’t moved.   
Martin smiled.  
“Thank you very much.” He winked. “Have a great day you two.” Martin smiled.  
“You too.” The one girl beamed.  
Martin smiled, and walked towards the staircase.

“Martin?” She asked.  
Martin turned his head around, smiled with questioning eyes.  
“He’s a prick,… don’t tell him that! He never told us, that he knows you!” She smiled.  
Martin laughed.  
“Maybe I will. No, jokes aside, I will be as silently as a grave.” He grinned, and the girl grinned as well. “We know each other for 21 years now.” Martin winked, and walked up the stairs.  
The short-haired girl looked stunned, and the other one still looked stunned.

Martin walked upstairs, and then he walked to the door which was open, the only one in the whole corridor.   
He leaned against the door frame, eyed Benedict.  
Benedict wore a navy blue trouser and a blue-grey sweater; his auburn hair was styled a bit – he just looked gorgeous.  
He was saying goodbye to two girls and one boy, and when these students looked to Martin, Benedict turned his head around as well.

Martin smiled widely.  
Benedict looked stunned, but the eyes were beaming and sparkling.  
“Martin… ” He said, and his face immediately showed a big smile.   
Martin smiled even more.  
“I thought, I could fetch you up.” He smiled, and came in. His head turned to the three students, who were leaving the room and who were looking as stunned as the reddish hair girl downstairs. “Bye.” He smiled.  
The students nodded with stunned and grinning faces – surprised to see Martin Freeman fetching up their teacher; their teacher, who was beaming.  
They left the room with raised eyebrows and a grin.

Benedict and Martin looked after them, and then Martin came to Ben. He shouldered his bag again.  
Benedict bowed his head.  
“Hey,… god, it’s great to see you.” Ben beamed.  
Martin’s eyes sparkled; he closed the distance, and just hugged him tightly.   
“It’s great to see you, too, sugarnut.” Martin whispered into Ben’s ear.  
Benedict wrapped his arms around Martins neck, and pressed him close.  
“Good surprise?” Martin asked, and kissed Ben’s cheek.  
“It’s even better than the tickets for the Pink Floyd concert.” Ben murmured softly, and kissed Martin’s temple.  
“Wow, then,… I should be proud of myself, that I fetched you up today.” Martin mumbled lovingly.

Ben leaned his forehead against Martins forehead. He looked him deeply into the eyes – searching for the reasons, for the reasons why he had fetched him up – in school, a public place.  
His heart raced faster. His stomach tingled more. His knees got weak.  
Was it really that? Was it really what he thought it would be? Was he fetching him up like this, because he didn’t want to hide their relationship? Was he really fetching him up from school, because he just wanted to act like a normal couple – as if nobody would be interested in them?  
Ben swallowed, nudged Martin’s nose, who was beaming and smiling happy and satisfied.

“Martin?” Ben asked. “Is this, what I think it is?” He said vaguely.  
“When you think about me fetching you up, kissing you in school and walking across the courtyard of this school while holding hands to get a cab, which rides us to your or my place,… then you’re thinking the right thing.” Martin smiled gently.  
“I didn’t think about it in these details, but the message is the same.” Ben beamed lovingly. “First thing is done, you fetched me up, now you need to kiss me – for a long time to make up for the last days.” He winked with a beating heart.  
Martin smiled widely. He pressed Ben against the table.  
“I will snog you.”, Martin winked charmingly.  
Ben raised his eyebrow, grinned softly, when his butt was pressed against the table.  
“Can’t wait.”

Martin smiled, cupped Ben’s face, and captured his lips longingly. God, he had missed this lips a bit too much. His hands ran into Ben’s hair, whose hands ran into his grey hair.  
Martin gave Benedict a breathtaking kiss; he sucked at his lips, nibbled at those lips, licked across those lips; he gave him an absolutely breathtaking french kiss, and it showed how much he had missed him – the kiss was full of tenderness and love and longing.  
The tongue explored Ben’s mouth, as would it be the first time, even though they hadn’t been able to stop kissing on Sunday.   
Ben sighed into the kiss; he grabbed his hair – wouldn’t he know, that there were still a colleague and other students in the basement, he would turn of his mind, and he wouldn’t care if this was his work place or not; he would beg and plead, that Martin would do more, much more.

They loosened their lips breathlessly, opened their eyes and looked at each other.  
They smiled, and a few soft and gently kisses followed – small ones with smacking noises.   
And then they hugged each other again.

Martin rubbed across Ben’s back.  
“I missed you.”, Martin murmured.  
“You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you, Martin. It’s great that you’re here, and it’s great that we can spend this weekened with each other. Thanks for spending it with me. Thanks for fetching me up. Thanks for giving us a bit more time.” Ben whispered, and just hugged him tightly.   
And he couldn’t resist; he needed to kiss Martins hair.  
He sat down on the table to compensate their high difference.

They smiled with sparkling eyes.

Martin loosened a hand; he shouldered his bag again, and then he caressed across Ben’s cheek.  
“Not something you need to say thank you for, you polite gentleman.” Martin winked softly. “I would love to ask you out.” Martin smiled widely.  
“When?” Ben smiled broadly.  
They exchanged a soft kiss, before Martin talked again.  
“Next Friday,… the 5th of August. Are you free then?” Martin asked hopefully.  
“I am. Is it a date?” Ben beamed.  
“Not really a date. I would love to ask you out for the Sherlock wrap party next Friday. I would love to invite you to Cardiff, to join me at the wrap party, after we’ve finished the fourth season next Friday.” Martin beamed.  
“Wow,… wow, um. Jesus, I would love to. I really would love to join you.” Ben said with a happy voice. “All this,… that invitation, and your really lovely gesture right now,… if there would be a name for it, it would be – make it public. Wouldn’t it?” Ben asked.

They exchanged a soft kiss.

“Yeah, exactly.” Martin smiled. He kissed Ben’s lips, looked him in the eyes.   
Ben’s eyes sparkled warmly.  
“Let me fetch up my jacket and my bag, and then we can go,… I don’t want to spend your free weekend in the school.”  
Martin smiled; he stepped back a little bit.  
Benedict rubbed across Martin’s upper arm, walked around the table, slipped into his jacket, took his bag – and then he came back to Martin, took his hand and smiled widely.  
“Let’s go, sweetheart.”  
Martin beamed softly and squeezed Benedict’s Hand 

Together, they strolled through the almost empty school and across the courtyard, holding hands; they saw and walked past some other students, who had left the school, after their art project with Ben’s colleague.   
They strolled across the courtyard, with their hearts pounding against their rib cages, with their bellies full of butterflies, and with their knees weak as hot pudding.  
They strolled across the courtyard with a happy mind, a happy heart, and a happy stomach.  
They strolled across the courtyard, smiled with their minds, with their hearts, with their tummies – they smiled with their mouths and their eyes.

Nothing was missing any longer.  
The missing piece of the puzzle was back.  
And they wouldn’t lose it again.

It wasn’t just a try any longer.  
It never really had been a try.  
Not for one day. Not for this one week.  
It always had been more than just a try.  
And they had known it from the first second of their second meeting.  
This was something special.  
A love story, which had begun 21 years ago.


End file.
